The ceiling was white. It looked generally well made, not that many imperfections surprisingly. Yuusuke was stuck staring at the bland ceiling, like he had been for the past hour or so. Anything he could have possibly thought about something so simple, he had already thought it.

But what else could he do when he was stuck in bed like this? He wasn't sick or injured, he was capable of moving, but how could he move when you were still fast asleep, your head tucked under his chin which only meant he was stuck staring upwards.

Sure he could wake you up, maybe that'd wake up his limbs since he was sure they'd fallen asleep a while ago, but why would he do that when you seemed so comfortable? He could withstand another hour, maybe more, of discomfort for you; that was no big deal.

He's only torn away from his thoughts when he feels you shift a little against him.