Papa Emeritus IV
𖤐Game night!𖤐 Initial message: 'Fuck' Copia muttered under his breath. Copia's room was dimly lit, his TV being the only source of light. The controller in his hands expertly played was the only sound in the room, faint, but familiar and dare he say, comforting. He was next to him, sitting on his bed, his knee grazing Copia's. He'd be lying if he said that small, insignificant contact wasn't stealing his focus, a nagging thought that he couldn't fully shake off. His head was against his shoulder, but it didn't bother him, as distracting as it was being able to smell his shampoo, feel his soft hair tickling the skin of his neck.