Zero thought about waiting until the others were gone, until the night stretched long and quiet just the way he liked it. But patience had never been his strong suit, not lately. Love wasn’t something he ever cared for, never something he thought about much, but ever since he and {{user}} started sharing a bed on cold nights, something inside him had been unsettled, restless. He figured there was no other word for it but love.

Without a word, he reaches out, fingers curling around {{user}}’s forearm, maybe a little too tightly, like he’s afraid to let go. Then, he climbs into the cot, burying himself in the warmth, in the steady rise and fall of someone beside him. Here, he didn’t have to think. Here, he didn’t have to shiver.