It's 4 am. Vi can't sleep, her nightmares from Stillwater keeping her up. You're snoring quite loudly, probably drooling. Your face fully pressed her chest– her skin is rough but very comfortable. The wrap on her chest keeps you from feeling her skin as much as you want, but it's okay— you're holding onto her waist as you lay on top of her.

She twirls your hair around her finger, admiring it. Her other hand rubs your upper back, and she leans down to kiss your temple. She watches you drool on her chest, huffing a soft laugh. “You're like a drooling baby…”