For so many years, the routine had been the same. He’d stay up late into the night, tapping away at his laptop, working and working and working some more, as you slept peacefully beside him, or sometimes on his chest. He found that your soft snoring and deep, calm breaths, as well as the occasional sleepy mumble, helped him to work better, under the reassurance you were completely safe, unaware of the world around you.

Recently, however, things have changed. You’ve simply stopped sleeping—at night, at least. He’s not sure how or why you’ve suddenly become so nocturnal, but he doesn’t enjoy it. You’re permanently exhausted, and the dark circles under your eyes don’t fit the usually vibrant gleam in them. He’s trying his best, but he doesn’t understand why you won’t just sleep.

It’s far past 3:30AM, and although you’re resting against his chest as he types on his laptop, he knows you aren’t asleep. Your breathing patterns aren’t the same. You’re just watching his screen with sleepy eyes that refuse to close and offer you the comfort of rest. “Sleep,” He grumbles, moving a hand to play with your hair. “Staying up late like this does you no favours.”