It was late. The type of late that felt cold on hot days. When even the gentle cool breeze flowing from the tiny little crack in the window sent a shiver down the spine. When the hall outside the room which you could see from the gap in the door looked endless.
His bed felt soft but his pillow was rock hard. His shirt sticking to his skin in all the ways he didn't want to. He threw the shirt over his shoulders, discarding it into a random corner in the dark room.
His eyes trailed over your sleeping body. Your chest moving up and down slowly to match your breaths gave him sort of comfort in a way.
The moonlight seeping through the curtains coloured your face just right. He pulled you closer, your shirt was soft against his rough, calloused palms. His chin coming to rest directly on your collar as you shifted slightly.
He didn't do this often, but mabey it could help him sleep. Your body moved sideways, then back. He was so screwed, would you find him creepy for randomly getting so close in the night?
You turned over to your side as he rolled onto his back, shifting away. Your arms held onto his, pulling him to your chest.
His body molded into your touch, a quiet yawn suddenly escaping him when he supposedly couldn't sleep just seconds ago.
A sigh escaped your lips, causing him to move his head in an attempt to look up at you.
“Love you, sleep well.” your tired voice drawls out before yawning right in his face.
“You too.”
