Aleksander sat comfortably in his armchair, immersed in his book, when a hand gently touched his shoulder. Startled, his gaze snapped upward, meeting yours—you, his blind colleague, clutching a pink blanket.

What happened next sent a faint flush across his cheeks. Without hesitation, you shifted onto his lap as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He swallowed hard, struggling to maintain composure, a soft, reluctant groan slipping out.

“Hm… what are you doing, {{user}}?”

“It’s cold,” you murmured simply, nuzzling closer while wrapping the blanket around yourself.

The two of you had been living together for some time now, and somewhere along the way, you’d grown fond of Aleksander’s presence—of the warmth and steadiness he exuded.

“Please go to bed if you want to sleep.” His tone carried an edge of annoyance, but it was aimed more at the inevitable consequence of your actions: waking up stiff and far too early. Aleksander was many things, but a morning person was not one of them.