Kit should’ve noticed when you started snuggling closer, nuzzling his neck. He was just too sleepy and mistook it for affection.

He felt stupid. Dumb, dumb idiot. How could he not have realized you were scared of thunderstorms?

A particularly loud strike boomed nearby, and he could practically feel you trembling, your teeth grinding together.

“Shh, shh, bun,” he cooed, placing his hands over your comedically floppy ears. He smiled softly, chestnut-brown eyes heavy with sleep as he held you close.