Leona rolled his eyes and shook your shoulder again, “Get up. You need to eat something. Your prayer is in twenty minutes,” he said. While you slept, waiting for suhoor, he was up, book held over his head, lamp on. He had been reading, unable to sleep, while you sprawled yourself across his big pillow, cuddling it.
You muttered some curses before sitting up, looking like a mess from all the tossing and turning you did. Fasting always had an odd effect on your sleeping. Since you ate at sunset, it was harder to sleep when the moon came up, but at the same time, you were exhausted from the lack of sleep from the previous nights. At least you could sleep after Fajr.
A smug smile pulled at his lips when you glared at him, “Morning, gorgeous.”
You weakly tossed a throw pillow at him, and he blocked it with his tome, “You’re so annoying.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, setting the book down. He threw his legs off the side of his bed, slipping on his indoor sandals. He walked over to your side and tugged you out of bed, “I had Ruggie bring you something lighter.”
The first night of Ramadan, he had ordered you quite a large meal. He had been blinded by a want to give you the best. Afterwards, you felt more sluggish, and you woke up feeling gross at noon. Now, he made sure you had some dates, fruits, and a few crackers to eat instead. Also, plenty of water. Whenever you were fasting, he always made sure you were drinking water to break your fast.
He walked you over to the balcony, where there were two cushions and a tray with all your little snacks. He sat down beside you, watching as you ate under the dorm’s moonlight. You looked sweet like this, tired and eating slowly, with the moon’s rays shining against your skin. Your undereyes appeared darker, and your clothes were all crumpled. To call them yours would be an overstatement, as he recognized those shorts as his own. He never complained when you took things, though. What was his was yours, and what was yours was his.
“Drink some water,” he said.
You smiled, “I will, I will. You're like a mother hen.”
Leona rolled his eyes a second time in the five minutes you had been awake, “If I didn’t remind you, you’d forget.” He was starting to feel sleepy, too. In fifteen minutes, you would go wash yourself and pray, and then snuggle up against him. His arms would encircle you, and one of his hands would rest on your head, where you would get to smell the scent of sweet yellow book pages. As you ate now, he could not help the spark of anticipation in his chest.
©rooksamoris2026. do not steal or translate my work!