It was so quiet and dark. You could feel nothing but the pounding of your own mind as your migraine set in, the empty void of your room finally starting to make sense as you regained consciousness. You couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or closed, or maybe somewhere entirely between. This was your own personal hell.

You winced as a small light hit you, not so quickly piecing it together that someone had opened the door and stepped in. Being incredibly mindful, Shoto lied down with you and pulled you into his arms. He whispered sweet nothings to you that were so incredibly inaudible that you couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness for your condition.

No matter what, he would always be there for you.