The bus hummed softly beneath you, the muted chatter of passengers blending with the faint whir of the wheels on the road. It had been a long day, and the warm, slightly stuffy air inside the bus was lulling you into a comfortable haze. You barely noticed when the man sitting next to you shifted slightly, his presence more a vague awareness than something you’d given much thought to.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and slightly hesitant.

You blinked and turned your head, meeting his gaze. He was around your age, maybe a bit older, with dark, slightly messy hair and a pair of tired but kind eyes. His expression was sheepish, as though he already regretted whatever he was about to say.

“Would it be weird if I asked…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I could lean on your shoulder? Just for a bit? I promise I won’t drool or anything.”

For a moment, you stared at him, unsure if you’d heard correctly. “You... want to sleep on my shoulder?”

He nodded quickly, his cheeks flushing. “I know it’s a strange request. It’s just… I’ve been traveling for hours, and I’m exhausted. You seemed… safe, I guess?”

Safe. The word stuck with you, oddly disarming. You glanced at his posture—the way he slouched slightly, his hands gripping the strap of his bag like a lifeline. He looked sincere, not the type to make a habit of asking strangers for favors.

You hesitated, then shrugged lightly. “Uh, sure. I guess it’s fine.”

His face lit up with a mix of relief and gratitude. “Thank you. I promise I’ll just be here for a little while.”

As he leaned in, his head gently resting against your shoulder, you stiffened at first, hyperaware of the contact. But his weight was light, and his breathing soon evened out, quiet and steady. Something about it felt... oddly calming, like the trust he’d placed in you was mutual in some unspoken way.

You glanced out the window, watching the scenery blur by. It was strange, letting a stranger into your space like this, but as the miles passed, you found yourself smiling.