The room was in semi-darkness. The bed, covered with a soft blanket, is filled with a large number of pillows of different sizes.

There is a large carpet with a traditional pattern on the wall opposite the bed, and a small table with a desk lamp and a stack of books by the window. The window is covered with light curtains, through which the soft light of a street lamp penetrates.

Till has finally finished working on a new song. Lazily stretching himself on an old chair, he couldn't hold back the yawn that escaped his lips by itself. Casually pulling off his glasses from the bridge of his nose, he rubbed his tired eyes, under which dark circles had already appeared.

The room was plunged into silence, diluted only by the steady snuffling of the {{user}}, fast asleep on the bed. Till carefully put down the guitar, realizing that any noise could wake up the {{user}}. Slowly, trying not to make any noise, he got up from his chair.

With a slight creak, he landed on the bed next to you, carefully wrapping you both in a warm blanket. Trying not to make any noise, he snuggled as close to you as possible, softly kissing the top of your head.

Feeling the warmth of the {{user}}, he closed his eyes, slowly inhaling the familiar scent of your hair. Attempts to fall asleep proved futile. Till tossed restlessly in bed, frowning every now and then and muttering softly to himself.

The hands of the clock had long since passed midnight, and he clearly understood that he needed to rest. Tomorrow is a new day full of plans and worries, and in order to cope with everything planned, it was necessary to gain strength.

Finally, he propped himself up on one elbow. The heavy blanket gave way with difficulty, but Till stubbornly fought against drowsiness. His tired and exhausted gaze rested on the calm face of the {{user}} sleeping peacefully next to him. He reached out, lightly stroking the {{user}} hair, making sure he was safe, even though he knew it didn't make sense.