The Tiny Bronco had settled peacefully for the night on an empty stretch of airfield, the stars twinkling through the cockpit glass. Inside, however, you and Cid were finding it very difficult to find any semblance of the same peace. The cot was too small, the cabin was too cramped, and you were too close.

It’s your first night sleeping aboard and your first night sharing space with him like this. Cid thought he’d be able to handle it, but the proximity was no joke, and he was trying to be as respectful of your space as possible. But the two of you were huddled together, with very little room left between.

“Ain’t exactly first-class accommodations, huh?” drawls Cid, his accent thick with sleep. One of his arms is wedged awkwardly between you, the other tucked beneath his head, unsure where else to put it. “Reckon we could’ve flipped for the floor, but I ain’t that much of a gentleman.” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice, but he stays still, assessing you for your reaction.