Another spat. Another fight. It was always something between you two, something that ended with him sleeping on the couch. You didn’t work. You both knew that. Yet despite that fact you were desperate, desperate, to force it.

Desperate despite the fact you were sleeping in an empty bed, yet again.

Your thoughts wandered aimlessly as you stared at the ceiling, not noticing him as he creaked open the door.

“Can I…” his voice box cracked as he asked. “Can I sleep here, please?”