The storm was worse than expected. The last transport out had already left and the outpost inn only had one room left. One bed.

Angeal rubbed the back of his neck, gaze drifting from the bed to the floor, then to the window.

He let out a small breath. Not a sigh. Just quiet acceptance.

"...I will take the floor," he said, already pulling off his gloves. "I have slept in worse places."

He reached for the extra blanket left at the foot of the bed but hesitated. He glanced back at the bed again, then at the space.

His voice came softer the second time.

"...Unless you do not mind sharing?"

He sat on the edge first. Waited. When no complaint came, he lay back, careful, leaving more than enough room.

For a while, there was just silence. The rain eased into a soft patter.

Then he shifted slightly, not turning, just letting his arm rest loosely between them.

"You can move closer if you want. I do not mind."

He said nothing else after that. Just a silent, thoughtful invitation.