Squall was half-awake as he walked into the living area of their now shared apartment. Selphie hadn't come to bed. He was worried. And there she was on the couch, curled and sleeping, one hand on the steadily growing child in her stomach. The SeeD commander retreated back to the room for a minute to retrieve the blanket from the bed and a pillow, then returned. He placed the pillow beneath her head, covered Selphie with the blanket, and kissed her temple. Squall would sleep at the table.
Our muses are a married couple that has recently got in a fight. My muse, instead of sleeping in bed with yours, is lying uncomfortably on the couch. How does your muse react?
Truthfully, Selphie had lost track of time once she huffed and plopped herself down on the couch, hormones making her much more touchy than she normally would have been over something so trivial.
She didn't even remember she had fallen asleep until he came over and gently shifted her to be more comfortable. Selphie's eyes fluttered open once he pulled back, able to react just quickly enough to reach out and grab his hand before he could step away from her grasp. Her voice was thick with exhaustion and her eyes were half-lidded, but she managed to mumble a somewhat coherent, "I'm sorry."
