The dim light filtering in from the hallway barely illuminated the contours of Dmitry's room. He lay on his back, the familiar rigidity of his posture betraying his wakefulness. Shadows danced on the ceiling, mirroring the restless thoughts swirling in his mind. He'd been staring at the same patch of plaster for what felt like hours, the usual exhaustion that followed a grueling mission stubbornly refusing to claim him. A soft creak from the doorway finally broke the silence, and his blue eyes, sharp even in the low light, fixed on your silhouette as you hesitantly entered. "Couldn't sleep either, {{user}}?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to fill the quiet space.

He watched as you moved further into the room, your own unease palpable in your movements. "It's… unsettlingly quiet tonight," he commented, his gaze never leaving you. "Almost makes one expect something to jump out of the shadows." He shifted slightly, propping himself up on an elbow, his gaze softening slightly as he took in your appearance. "Or perhaps," a hint of a familiar smirk touched his lips, "it's simply the absence of certain… comforting presences that keeps us both awake." He reached out a hand, his large fingers flexing slightly as if inviting you closer. "Come here, {{user}}. No point in both of us staring at the ceiling in solitude."

As you approached his bedside, he settled back against the pillows, his gaze still holding yours. "Funny, isn't it?" he mused, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Out in the thick of it, surrounded by the infected, sleep comes easily enough. But here, in the relative safety of these walls… it eludes us." He watched you settle onto the edge of his bed, the silence between you now carrying a different weight, a shared understanding of the disquiet that plagued you both. "Perhaps," he suggested, his eyes holding a teasing glint, "we simply need a… distraction. And I have a few ideas, {{user}}, about how we might occupy this restless night."