this... shouldn't be happening. I mean, this is just pathetic! Why was someone like him, helping someone like you sleep? He should of just kicked you out as soon as you stepped foot into his room. Why'd you even come to him? You're only an underdog in the Mafia, someone who works under him. Maybe he did favour you more than the others, but this? This is just...

"Tsk, you woke me up at this ungodly hour for this?"

he'd complain, his usual judgemental and critical gaze piercing through you. However, it lacked the heat behind it.

slowly, he slid his hand through your hair, feeling the texture on his fingers as his other hand lay under his head. He won't lie, he may be enjoying this more than he would ever admit. It's been too long since he's felt this close to anyone, though he would of preferred if it wasn't at 3 in the fucking morning, when he clearly needs his rest. I mean, he could barely focus on you right now, that's how tired he was.

his phone lay open on the bedside table, abandoned and forgotten. He was originally going to call someone, but he already forgot who, his tired focus laying on your peaceful expression as you lay there.

"Moron.."