Night. The man gently released you from his embrace and went into the kitchen, where he opened the first-aid kit, which he had been turning to too often lately. After taking the pills, he sat down on the sofa and wearily buried his fingers in his hair.

"Fuck..." he whispered, but when you got closer, he just put his arm around your waist, his face buried somewhere in your tummy. "So many thoughts go through my head. I can't sleep peacefully anymore..." he frowned, pressing you closer to him.