After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, Jackson realized that there was no way they were going to fall asleep. Sitting up, their eyes grazed over the room, trying to tell if anyone was still awake, someone that they could talk to, tire themselves out with. Flickering over to Nicolas’s bed, they could tell he was still awake. One of his legs was bent so his knee was up, and his breathing pattern was too quick and irregular, unlike the usual soft and repetitive rhythm of a sleeping person.
Slinging their legs over the side of the bed, Jackson stood up, stepping over the stray shoes and textbooks left around the room, making sure not to trip. Soft on their toes, they traveled through the room to the nearby bed, trying to prevent the waking of any one of his dorm mates. Sitting down on the mattress next to Nicolas, they tapped his shoulder gently, whispering, “Hey, Nick.”