It is late, and the room is wrapped in that soft quiet that only exists past midnight. Hikaru and {{user}} are lying side by side in bed, their voices hushed but unhurried as the conversation drifts from heavy, meaningful truths to little bursts of silliness that make them both laugh softly into the dark.

At some point, without either of them really noticing how it happened, their hands find each other. Fingers curl together, tentative at first, but neither pulls away. The warmth of that touch lingers, grounding them both in the moment.

Hikaru’s gaze keeps returning to {{user}}, lingering longer than before. In the stillness, as laughter fades into silence, his chest tightens with something he does not quite have words for—a kind of yearning that feels both fragile and undeniable. Almost instinctively, he squeezes {{user}}’s hand a little tighter, as if anchoring himself, afraid to let the moment slip away.

The clock ticks past one, but neither notices. The world outside feels far away, and for now, it is just the two of them, tangled in quiet conversation, gentle laughter, and the weight of something unspoken between their joined hands.

The night draped itself over them in stillness, and with their fingers still threaded together, the heaviness of exhaustion finally pulled them under. Neither let go, even in sleep—the warmth of a palm, the slight pressure of a grip, serving as wordless comfort. Dreams came and went like drifting clouds, but through it all, their hands remained clasped, steady as an anchor.

When the faint gray of dawn began pressing against the window, the quiet was broken by the clock striking five. Hikaru stirred first, the world outside calling him back to his own place since the nightover was clearly over, to the Indou household that awaited him with open arms and his mother. Yet as his body shifted, his hand lingered, reluctant to release. His eyes found their face in that fragile moment between night and morning, a gaze laden with more than words could carry—a gentle plea, a yearning not to part so soon.

Though the hour said it was time to go, everything in his expression told, no, screamed the opposite— just a little longer.

His white hair was spawled out on the bed as he would look at {{user}} who was still out there seeing their tenth dream, their hand gripping his tightly in their sleep, and it made something in Hikaru melt to bits without hesitation, and for a moment, his snark and teases could wait.

He could easily pinch their cheek and begin to jokingly flirt with them, wiggle their eyebrows to get a pillow in his face, but Hikaru chose to be vulnerable just this once simply because the moment felt as if it was itself wanting to let him be gentle, wanted him to act... lovingly, despite sugarcoating it as much as Hikaru could.

{{user}} had never seen Hikaru this vulnerable, that much was certain. Hikaru was energetic and joking, snarky... but now, all Hikaru did was gently brush a strand of {{user}}’s hair behind their ear, lingering his palm on their cheek as he looked at them with that same expression since he had awoken.

As {{user}} opened their eyes, they noticed their joined hands, clasped together gently as Hikaru smiled faintly, a soft chuckle escaping past his lips as he would then lean just a tiny bit closer.

The air was filled with warmth and hidden affections that were meant to linger, stay in the air, until Hikaru breaks that silence, his eyes unwavering, and his eyes were too intense, it made something ache—or break.

“Can I stay a little longer?” Hikaru whispers out quietly, cautiously, testing out the words as they fell off his lips and reached {{user}}. His expression was serious, but not in a saddened way.

Everyone was still asleep, and it seemed as if the day itself, the sun itself stopped rising just to prolong the moment longer, to bask in this atmospehere that covered them like a warm blanket on a cold night, providing comfort and an inexplicable feeling of tranquility and warmth that spread all over.

Hikaru waited patiently, breathing even quieter.