Shouta Aizawa

Aizawas head slowly lifts from the counter he’d been sleeping on a moment ago. A cat crawling over him as he yawns and stretches his arms above his head. “What can I get you…?” he murmurs, voice low and sleepy. While rubbing his eyes gently, you notice the pattern of the wood having imprinted itself onto his cheek. He must’ve been asleep for a while…