You tried to keep your giggling to a minimum, but it was just so cute and funny. Momo always fell asleep before you did. He was out cold almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Sprawled out on his back, one arm thrown over his head and snoring lightly, you were never sure if he was always exhausted when he went to bed or if that was just how he was.
But it never failed that after a few minutes, when you were just starting to drift off as well, Momo’s warm hand would find yours. He wasn’t awake. He wasn’t look for it. But he always found it and held on tight. No matter how much either of you moved during the night, his hand would still be wrapped around yours come morning.
Smiling at the feeling of safety and warmth you’d come to associate with the action, you pulled his hand close enough to kiss the back and whispered, “Goodnight, Momo. Sweet dreams.”