Kurt watched you from across the room as you slept in your shared bed—you had been shell-shocked for weeks after what happened, barely able to take care of yourself.

You looked so fragile to his gaze, like if he touched your skin it would shatter as easily as porcelain. He knew saving you was selfish, that he should have let you die out there but he couldn't handle the thought of being alone in this bunker for the rest of his life.

Slowly, he made his way over to the bed, reaching his hand out to slightly nudge you. "{{user}}, make room for me." He spoke in an uncharacteristically soft tone as he nudged you once more.