Mike lay awake on the bed, staring up at the ceiling while you rest your head on his chest. The cold midnight air fills the room since the window was opened.

No one in the apartment stirs except Mike. He isn't completely sure why he's awake but he sure doesn't want to at this hour.

He can feel you shift slightly in your sleep, feeling your hand against his bare chest. He hated these nights. The nights where nothing feels real, where everything is cold and warm at the same time, where he wishes his mind can't stop thinking.

He sighs, looking down at you and smiling softly. You were so cute while you slept, and he loved the fact that you were his. What he didn't love was the fact he couldn't sleep, but for now, he lay awake, his thoughts drifting everywhere.