our intuition - HEIZOU.

𝐩𝐭. 𝟗 - 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔

"soooo," heizou began, tapping the book against his chin with one hand. "if you're here, then there must have been someone who told you about my delight with murder mystery novels."

you hummed, "someone may or may not have told me~ but it does seem like a thing you'd read. bought it from yae publishing house a few minutes ago, before you came in."

he glanced over the cover again. "interesting...a collection of cases following the main character's journey?"

"it sounds so much like you," you teased, "...except you might solve them faster..."

"is that a challenge?" he raised an eyebrow.

"would you like it to be one...?"

he patted the chair next to him. "watch."

<><>

he fell asleep on your shoulder, the book lying open and flat on his stomach, the spine facing up. unfortunately for him, he solved no cases- and every time, it caught you laughing, he rolled his eyes and smacked the book on the table... before picking it up for the next chapter.

"no brain left," you hummed, taking the book from him- but one of his eyes peeked open and he fixed his grip on the cover before going back to his nap.

curious, you pulled the book towards you but he pulled back with a quiet, sleepy grumble.

his face was scrunched up with either a frown or a mischievous grin, it didn't help that his eyes were squeezed shut. obviously he was no longer asleep.

still itching to win the fight you tugged harder on the book, but at that point your resistance was let down and he abruptly pulled the book away again, launching you forward across his chest.

"hey-!" you exclaimed, your chin landing on his arm further away, stealing a yell from him.

"geez, i was still reading that!" he huffed, a grin on his face.

"riiight," you muttered. "you didn't have to pull that hard." in the process of lifting yourself up you purposefully placed your hand on his face, earning a small flail as he was blinded by your palm.

"hey, keep your fingers out of my mouth," he told you, lifting you up by your hand.

the things you were about to reply with, but you knew it'd get you in trouble. you satisfied yourself with an eye roll and continued for the book but he pivoted it out of your sight.

"still reading," he told you, helping you sit up again. "thanks for waking me up."

"yep," you sighed, leaning back comfortably.

"if you really wanted, i'd let you help me solve a case."

"you're just upset that you haven't been able to solve any yet-"

"the author is spectacular at writing mysteries," he protested. "if anything i'm learning new things as i go."

"yeah, of course you are," you muttered.

he dismissed your comment and opened the book once more. "the case of the missing sock."

"left or right?"

"not yet," he muttered. "just one sock? their other foot must be cold at night."

"oh, so you sleep with socks on?" it was kind of odd to imagine, since the detective didn't wear socks at all during the day.

"i never said that." he skimmed over the clues. "last seen in the top drawer. maybe they misplaced it."

you peeked over his shoulder, leaning your weight on his arm. "grey sock with a hole on the heel."