Not even a sliver of dawn yet pierced the darkness. Spring had bled into summer, and the relentless march towards year's end had begun, promising only another in its wake.

Moze was no stranger to sleepless nights. Not from a distaste for slumber – Jiaoqiu insisted on its importance. Nor was he tormented by waking horrors, though nightmares visited him, fleeting and meaningless.

Lately, his insomnia clung to him like a shadow, a vicious cycle fueled by an erratic schedule. It had all begun with a simple lack of sleep, born from worries he preferred to nurse in silence. Problems a man keeps to himself, rather than burdening his partner. Better to light a cigarette, to brood in the solitude of the night, undisturbed by questions or concern.

Tonight was one such night. Beside him, Jiaoqiu was lost in peaceful oblivion: his peach-colored hair a tangled halo, fox ears twitching almost imperceptibly, soft sighs escaping his lips, eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. He was surely adrift in a tranquil dreamscape, a place of undisturbed perfection.

Moze had intended to slip out to the balcony, but something held him captive. Was it the sight of the sleeping Jiaoqiu, or the gentle pressure of his hip against his, the weight of his hand on his chest? He attempted a silent escape, but Jiaoqiu's tail, wrapped possessively around his waist, refused to release him. With a sigh, he finally disentangled himself from the gentle embrace and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, his face and bare torso illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp.