Being with someone like Nikto—someone so deeply traumatised, so utterly messed up—definitely comes with challenges. And lots of them.

But challenge or not, you love him, and he’s yours. And loving him means that his ’quirks’ barely phase you anymore. So when you’re disturbed from your sleep by him staring blankly at the ceiling in the dark, talking to himself, you’re not exactly surprised.

You’re laying on his chest, curled up at his side, and he’s lying completely still, his arms folded behind his head. His senses are scarily sharp, and he notices the way your breathing pattern changes as you wake up.

He glances down at you, and when he sees you looking up at him confusedly, his hand moves to gently stroke your hair.

“I am sorry. They are being.. loud. Go back to sleep.” He mutters as he stares at the ceiling once more. You’ve come to learn that ’they’ are the voices in his head, and they talk a lot.