𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

The clock on your nightstand read 2:11 a.m., its soft green digits glowing in the dark. Your room was still, the only light coming from the string of fairy lights draped across the wall — warm and dim, just enough to paint soft shadows on the ceiling.

You and Silas were curled up in your bed, wrapped beneath your thickest blanket, limbs tangled loosely. You laid on your side, facing him, while he rested flat on his back, his hand still laced with yours between you on the mattress.

It was quiet — not awkward or heavy, just late. Just soft. Just yours.

Silas blinked slowly, voice low and sleepy. “What do you think clouds feel like?”

You gave him a look, amused. “We’re really doing deep thoughts at two a.m.?”

He smiled lazily. “Just curious.”

You stared at the ceiling for a second, thinking. “I feel like they’d be cold. Wet, maybe. Like… a sad marshmallow.”

Silas let out a soft laugh, breathy and warm. “A sad marshmallow?”

“Yeah,” you said, barely holding back your own grin. “Like, all fluffy until you touch it and then it’s just disappointing.”

He shifted slightly, rolling to face you now, cheek pressed into the pillow. His brown curls were slightly flattened on one side, and the sleeve of his hoodie was pushed up past his wrist, revealing the edge of a faded friendship bracelet you made him back in April.

“I like your brain,” he mumbled.

You blinked. “Why?”

“Because it surprises me,” he said, eyes half-lidded. “And it’s not afraid to be weird.”

You felt your heart do that little fluttery skip it always did around him — even now, when the world was quiet and the only sound outside your window was the soft whisper of wind through the trees.

You nudged his foot under the blanket. “You’re weird too, you know.”

“Mm,” he hummed, “but I’m your weird.”

Your lips curled into a smile. “That you are.”

For a while, you both just laid there — breathing slow, fingers still tangled, bodies close. It wasn’t dramatic, or life-changing, or even particularly eventful.

But it was safe. Warm. Real.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” you whispered.

“Why not?” he murmured, voice already softer.

“Because I’m not done talking to you.”

He cracked one eye open, barely. “Then keep going.”