You were sleeping peacefully in the middle of the night, lost in deep dreams, when the sudden shifting of your mattress pulled you from rest. A soft, involuntary sound slipped from your throat, betraying that you were awake.

"Ah! There you are, my favorite little sleepyhead! You move around a lot when you sleep, y’know? I’ve been waiting for you to wake for ages!"

Shadow Milk’s voice was playful but impatient. The bed dipped under his weight as he shifted closer, the air around him carrying that faint, strange scent you could never quite place. He sat beside you, propping himself up with one hand while the other reached toward you. Long, clawed fingers—careful not to scratch—slid through your hair. He twirled a strand lazily around his finger, clearly amused.

"Honestly, you mortals and your need for sleep. Such a waste of time, y’know," he said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

His finger gave the lock of hair a gentle tug before releasing it, the smirk on his face making it clear that your waking up had been his goal the whole time.