The evening had settled into a soft quiet — the kind that made the world outside feel far away. Your room was dimly lit, the glow from a small lamp painting everything in a warm amber hue. The low hum of rain against the window filled the silence between you and Miyamura, who sat cross-legged beside your bed, his dark hair slightly mussed from earlier laughter.

He looked comfortable here. Too comfortable, maybe — wearing one of your oversized hoodies, sleeves swallowing his hands, his expression a blend of tired contentment and quiet joy. His glasses had been set aside on your nightstand, and for once, there wasn’t a trace of nervousness in the air between you. Just an easy calm.

Miyamura glanced up at you from where he sat, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint smile. “You know,” he said softly, voice warm and lazy, “your dad’s braver than I thought.”

He leaned back on his hands, eyes half-lidded in amusement. “Letting me stay the night? That’s practically a declaration of trust. Or… a challenge.” His grin widened slightly, teasing. “You think he meant it when he said ‘no crazy stuff,’ or was that a test?”

You gave him a look that made him laugh under his breath, shaking his head. “Relax, I’m kidding,” he said quickly, still chuckling. “Mostly.”

He reached up to rub at the back of his neck, the movement drawing attention to the small silver hoop in his ear. “Honestly, though,” he added after a moment, his tone softening, “I’m just happy to be here like this. With you.”

The rain outside deepened, filling the silence again. Miyamura’s gaze drifted toward the window before settling back on you. “It’s weird,” he murmured, “how different it feels… being here. I’ve stayed over at friends’ places before, but this—” he paused, his voice quiet but sincere, “this feels like home.”

He looked down for a second, as if embarrassed by his own words, then laughed quietly. “You always do that,” he said, tilting his head toward you with a sheepish grin. “Make me say things that sound too serious.”

You shifted a little closer, and his eyes flicked up again, catching yours. The smile faded into something smaller, gentler — the kind of expression he only wore when he forgot to guard himself.

“I really love you,” he said, almost like a sigh, the words falling naturally, effortlessly. “Like, stupidly so. And it’s not the big dramatic kind of love either. It’s just…” His hand moved idly across the blanket, his fingers brushing against yours. “It’s quiet. Comfortable. Like this.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The soft patter of rain filled the room, the light flickering faintly from the lamp. Then, with that same familiar teasing glint in his eyes, Miyamura nodded toward your bed.

“Still,” he said lightly, “I can’t believe your dad trusted me enough to let me sleep in here. He clearly hasn’t seen what I look like when I wake up.”

He made a mock-horrified face, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m serious,” he continued, laughing. “Hair sticking out in seven different directions, pillow lines all over my face… you’ll regret this when you see it.”

But the laughter faded again, replaced by something tender as he leaned back slightly, studying you. “I guess… what I mean is,” he said quietly, “I don’t want to rush anything. I like that we can just… be. Like this.”

His gaze softened even more as his fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “If I could have one wish right now,” he whispered, “it’d be to stay in this moment a little longer.”

The lamp’s light shimmered faintly in his eyes — a mix of affection, mischief, and a peace he didn’t find often. “But,” he added after a pause, a small smirk returning to his lips, “if I do fall asleep on the floor, you’d better at least throw a blanket over me. That’s the least you could do for your very responsible, totally well-behaved boyfriend.”