The clock strikes an indecent time. The city is already asleep, but you're still awake – not because you want to be, but because sleep insists on not coming.

You're lying in the same bed, something that has happened so many times that it shouldn't seem strange anymore. But it always does.

The dim light from the lamp barely illuminates the room, creating soft shadows on Megumi's face, who is lying next to you. He stares at the ceiling, his eyes half-open, but you realize that he's not really paying attention to anything anymore.

Silence. Just the calm breathing of both of you and the rustle of the sheets when he moves.

Then, in a slow and almost hesitant gesture, Megumi turns to your side. You feel the mattress sink slightly as he gets closer, the heat of his body touching yours.

— "It's cold..." — He murmurs, his voice low, a little hoarse from sleep.

You could say that it's not that cold. But you don't.

His fingers find a space on your waist, without pressure, just enough to make it clear that he wants to be close. His face stops a few inches from your neck, his warm breath brushing your skin.

Megumi has never been one for words, but in moments like this, he says everything without having to speak.

— "If you say anything, I'll come back to my side." — He mumbles, his eyes closed, as if he already anticipated a provocation from you. But he doesn't pull away. On the contrary.

You feel his shoulders relax, the usual tension melting away as sleep begins to overcome him.

And, by the way his fingers intertwine with yours under the blanket, it's almost as if he doesn't want the night to end so soon.