You huffed quietly, the sound muffled beneath the weight currently draped across your entire body.

He’d done it again.

You had gone to bed like normal—Rill curled up beside you, warm and sweet, pressing soft, sleepy kisses to your cheek before drifting off with a content little hum.

Everything had been peaceful, calm. For a whole five minutes. And then chaos.

Now, sometime in the early hours before dawn, Rill was fully sprawled on top of you. His arms were flung out like a starfish, one leg somehow wedged between yours and the other bent at an angle that defied logic.

His cheek was smushed against your chest, mouth slightly open, soft breaths fanning across your collarbone. His light blue hair was sticking up in every direction.

You shifted, trying to breathe normally. Not an easy task when your boyfriend had decided your ribcage was the perfect mattress.

You glanced down at him, and there it was—that blissfully unaware, peaceful little smile.

He looked like he was dreaming something colorful and ridiculous, maybe painting with clouds or floating through a sky made of whipped cream.

Whatever it was, it clearly didn’t involve not suffocating you in your sleep.

Your fingers twitched at your side. You were going to have to do it. You were going to have to wake him.

But just as you moved your hand to tap his shoulder, Rill let out a sleepy sigh and snuggled closer. Closer. His arms tightened around you like you were the last paintbrush on earth.

You closed your eyes, another sigh escaping. You didn’t have the heart to push him off.

Not when he looked like that—so peaceful, so happy, like he belonged there, like you were the safest place he could imagine.

Eventually, you reached up and gently brushed his hair back from his forehead. His breathing evened out again, and he mumbled something unintelligible into your chest, a soft smile still on his lips.

You were still annoyed. But maybe, just maybe… you could stay like this a little longer…