“Fridays it is, then.” His head tilts, he shifts like he might mean to go for a kiss, but hesitates then withdraws. They hadn't really discussed that sort of intimacy, so it's probably best he doesn't take any liberties; no reason to take a mile when he's just now being given an inch, after all.

Sizhui holds the blanket around himself, moves to get down, goes to collect his phone from the pocket of his sweater and dutifully brings it back to Jiang Cheng. “Here,” while he holds it out, doing his best to not look too expectant.