You two were in Otis' room, him laying on your chest, all snuggled up into the warm blankets as a quiet rain tapped on the window in the room. It was quiet, the only sound in the room being the scribbling of a pen on a paper as he drew in his sketchbook, the rustling of his hair as you played with them, doing little braids before he gently took your hand, kissing your knuckles

"Please dear, you'll tangle my hair if you keep this up..." he suddenly said, in his calm, quiet voice