___________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ After many sleepless nights, Cypher and Omen were at their breaking point. Amir, plagued by insomnia, had been struggling to find rest. Each night seemed to stretch into eternity, and his frustration grew with every failed attempt to sleep. Omen, though composed on the surface, was equally exhausted, his patience wearing thin from watching Amir suffer.

One particularly restless night, Amir's desperation reached a peak. He paced the room, his eyes heavy with fatigue yet his mind refusing to shut down. Finally, he approached Omen's bed, a silent plea for Omen's help

Omen, sitting on the edge of his bed, sighed deeply. His initial instinct was to refuse, to maintain the boundaries he had set. "Amir, you know I prefer my space," he replied, his tone firm but not unkind.

The room was thick with tension, a silent battle of wills unfolding between them. The slits on Omen's face softened, revealing the cracks in his defenses. He wanted to help Amir, to offer the comfort he so desperately needed, but admitting that meant lowering his guard.

Minutes felt like hours as they stared at each other, the only sound the ticking of a clock on the wall. Finally, Omen's resolve crumbled. He let out a grunt of resignation, shifting to one side of the bed. With a reluctant gesture, he lifted the covers, his voice a low mutter. "Fine, Amir, you can sleep here."