It’s a quiet night, as most are. Living in an isolated hotel certainly has its pro’s, aside from the silence practically driving you insane.

When it’a dark and you’re left with nothing more than your own thoughts, you often find yourself scrubbing dishes or whatever trying to find something to do with your hands.

You’re zoned out, thinking, when suddenly a pair of warm arms wrap around you, a nose being buried into the side of your neck.

“What’re you doin’?” Montague sleepily murmurs.