[ 24. ] sender drapes a blanket over receiver, accidentally waking them. "sorry, go back to sleep." | seraken x1.
the television screen was a bloom of shifting colours, a news anchor on mute miming words into the quiet dark. there was a coffee cup gone cold on the tea table, his body cold and tucked up over the couch where he had fallen asleep half way through the paper mound on his own. hours had ticked by in that familiar solitude, and he might have fallen into a deeper sleep had it not been for the physical alarm clock that had become his body: stirring every few minutes to flick his eyes to the phone screen, seeing nothing of note, and putting it down before his focus drifted off again.
the phone stayed quiet, but it was the rustle of a blanket against his legs and arms that made his eyes flicker awake again. a slow inhale, where he held his breath as reality opened up on him like an eyelid — the first few seconds always devoted to making sense of what he was looking at, where a threat could be, who had touched him. then, finding no threat and seeing a familiar face looking over him, his shoulders would ease back, like dust settling.
his hand snakes out of the cosy fold over him to catch at sera’s wrist, blinking away sleep and familiar exhaustion, voice rough with drowsiness and not yet as sharp.
❛ it’s fine, ❜ he said, and with enough insistent tugging, got the other man to sit down at the edge of the couch with him. he sat up, grip still over that wrist, and rubbed a palm over his eyes before looking at him. ❛ wasn’t suppose to sleep anyway. you staying tonight? ❜ it wasn’t really a question. the way his head lulled forward, temple resting over sera’s shoulder, was a clear indication he wanted him to stay. was asking him to stay. ❛ ‘mhm tired. ❜