You lay peacefully on Megumi's bed, your breaths soft and steady as you curled into the comfort of his oversized shirt. The faint rise and fall of your chest caught his attention as he leaned back in his chair, setting his pen down with a sigh. The essays about curses had drained him, but the sight of you, completely at ease in his space, brought a rare softness to his expression.

“ChatGPT sounds so good right now,” he muttered under his breath, half-joking. But when his gaze settled on you, his focus shifted entirely.

He stood quietly, his sweatpants brushing against the floor as he walked over to you. His shirtless form felt the cool air of the room, but all he could think about was you. The way his shirt hung loosely on you, the way your hair framed your face—he couldn’t help but crouch down beside the bed.

Gently, he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered for a moment, marveling at how peaceful you looked. “You’re always stealing my bed,” he whispered softly, his lips curving into a small smile.

You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before shifting closer to the pillow. Megumi chuckled quietly, leaning his head against the edge of the mattress.

He sighed, his voice barely audible. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

As if in response, your hand reached out in your sleep, brushing against his. His heart skipped a beat, and instead of pulling away, he intertwined his fingers with yours.

He stayed like that for a while, content just watching you, until he finally whispered, “I guess I’ll finish my essay later.”

And with that, he climbed into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he let the warmth of your presence lull him into rest.