The rain was relentless, pouring down in sheets, drenching everything outside. The small hotel room felt cramped, the flickering light from the single lamp casting long shadows against the walls. Ash leaned against the door, exhausted from the day’s events, his clothes soaked and clinging to him uncomfortably.

“Guess we’re stuck here for the night,” you said, voice light despite the situation. You looked at him, then at the only bed in the room. It was a small, unremarkable thing, but it was all they had, Ash’s eyes flicked toward the bed, then back to you, his lips curling into that typical, annoyed smirk. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

You shrugged. “I’m not going to sleep on the floor.” He raised an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “And you think I’ll share?”

You were already walking toward the bed, pulling the covers back, unbothered by the obvious tension in the room, “There’s no way I’m freezing tonight, Unless you want to.” He stared at you for a moment, arms crossed, his jaw tight. For a second, you thought he might refuse, but he sighed, the frustration in his eyes softening, ever so slightly. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re welcome,” you teased already settling in under the covers, Ash hesitated for just a second, then finally muttered something under his breath as he joined you. The space between you two was small but undeniable, and yet, Ash didn’t pull away. Instead, he stayed, his body tense next to yours, and the two of you lay there in silence, the rain outside now almost a distant sound.

He turned his head toward you, his voice quieter than usual. “Don’t get used to it.” You smiled, unbothered. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Ash.”

And despite his usual gruffness, despite the many walls he’d built, there was something different in the way he stayed close, his presence grounding in a way he didn’t care to admit. For now, there was no escape—no arguing over the bed, no pushing you away. Just the two of you, huddled against the cold, even if he’d never admit it.