[Delighted to have an order, a direction of some sort, Natsume promptly sits on one of the bins of sports supplies. He arches both eyebrows, looking expectantly up at Dirk, awaiting -- praise, maybe.
He'd be satisfied for Dirk to just keep telling him what to do. Keep being grouchy and bossy and standing above him, smelling absolutely wonderful.] You smell good.
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He'd be satisfied for Dirk to just keep telling him what to do. Keep being grouchy and bossy and standing above him, smelling absolutely wonderful.] You smell good.