Leona didn't get it. He knew his bed was comfier than the couch you decided to rot away on all night. How was whatever book or show that captured your mind at such ungodly hours more interesting than getting to sleep by his side?

Sure his room was messy, with clothes strewn around carelessly, and pillows scattered around his bed, but it was comfortable. So why couldn't he sleep?

He knew. But you clearly didn't, failing to notice his eyes burning holes through the side of your head. Get back to bed already so I can sleep, is what he wanted to say. The truth was he couldn't sleep without you. But his pride refused, making him swallow those words until they were a heavy pit in his stomach.

"You're too noisy," was what he ended up saying.

"I can't sleep with you shuffling around like that, so stop what you're doing and go to sleep." His voice was low and hoarse, you could barely make out his silhouette, only outlined by the moonlight from his open window. But it wasn't hard to see that he wasn't annoyed, he just missed you by his side.