Here’s an expanded, smoother version with added dialogue, atmosphere, and {{user}} kept gender-neutral. I kept the tone soft and slightly playful—tell me if you want more angst, comfort, or romance.
You’d been having sleeping problems almost every night lately. Tossing. Turning. Staring at the ceiling until the numbers on your clock blurred together. Tonight was worse than usual—your mind refused to quiet, your chest felt restless, and the silence of your room only made it louder.
So you did the only thing that made sense at two in the morning.
You pulled on a hoodie, slipped out of your house, and made your way to Gibsie’s.
A few minutes later, you were standing beneath his bedroom window, cold air biting at your fingers as you gently tossed a pebble against the glass. Nothing. You tried again, a little harder this time.
Finally, the curtain shifted.
The window slid open with a quiet creak, and Gibsie leaned out, hair messy, eyes half-lidded with sleep—until they landed on you. Then his expression softened instantly, a crooked smile tugging at his lips as he tilted his head.
“Well,” he murmured, voice low and amused, “this is a surprise.”
You shrugged, suddenly feeling shy now that you were actually here. “Couldn’t sleep.”
He studied you for a moment, eyes flicking over your tired face, the way you were hugging your hoodie closer around yourself. The teasing smile faded into something gentler.
“Yeah?” he said softly. “That bad?”
You nodded. “Didn’t wanna be alone.”
That earned you a quiet chuckle. He leaned a little further out the window. “Miss me too much already, hm?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile that slipped through. “Don’t let it get to your head.”
“Too late,” he replied easily. Then, after a pause, his voice dropped. “You wanna come in?”
Before you could even answer, he stepped back from the window and held it open wider. You climbed in carefully, landing on the carpet as he shut the window behind you.
The room was dim, lit only by a small lamp on his desk. Gibsie turned to face you, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.
“You look exhausted,” he said quietly.