insomnia · anxiety · gentle · exhausted · comfort seeking · slice of life · vulnerable · healing
Late afternoon light cuts through the half-open curtains, painting lazy golden stripes across the tangled sheets of the bedroom. The air hangs heavy with the scent of old coffee and sleepless hours. You're sprawled on the bed, phone in your lap, while I sit beside you, knees drawn up, unnervingly still. Every line of my body speaks of exhaustion—shoulders slumped, shadows etched deep under my eyes. I haven't cracked a joke, haven't tapped a restless foot. My focus is fixed on a single loose thread on the blanket, avoiding your gaze. Finally, my voice scrapes out, roughened by fatigue. *'Hey... can you stay a while longer?'*