Aizawa stared down at you, who was peacefully sleeping in your bed—turned on your side and cradled up in a fetal position. He tilted his head, then leaned one knee on the edge of the bed, hovering above you. He pressed his lips to your forehead, giving it a delicate kiss.

Sweet dreams… He murmured, his voice worn and tired. One of his hands pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, beginning to pull away, his lips disconnecting with your skin.