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“We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.”
- The Tempest, Act 4, Scene 1
Even in his sleep, Shion looked exhausted.
The only illumination came from the weak moonlight filtering in through the single window in Shion’s bedroom. Even so, beneath the shadows cast by Shion’s dark hair (even darker than it had originally been - apparently he had started dyeing it a while ago, but Rat still wasn’t used to it) Rat could see the line stress had furrowed into Shion’s face, the dark spots like bruises underneath his eyes.
Rat hovered at the edge of the bed.
He was damn tired, and he was pretty sure if he didn’t go to bed then he’d collapse on top of his book at the kitchen table again (which was not only uncomfortable as hell, but also tended to irritate Shion when he’d find Rat in the morning). But Shion didn’t sleep as soundly as he had when he was sixteen, and even as worn out as the other man it was likely that he’d wake up if Rat moved onto the bed.
He watched Shion for a few moments more, observing the way his side rose and fell with each breath he took. Then, biting back the urge to sigh, Rat slowly pulled back his half of the covers, and climbed into bed as gently could manage.
As his shoulders hit the mattress, Shion stirred, making an inquisitive sort of noise as he tried to lift his head.
“It’s just me,” Rat turned towards Shion, reaching out to gently stroke the man’s (too dark) hair. “Go back to sleep.”
Shion blinked a few times before his bleary eyes found Rat. When they had, a warm (too warm), genuine smile broke out across his worn features.
“Rat…” Shion sighed his name, leaning into his touch before laying his head back down. Rat felt something tug in his chest.
“What are you smiling about?” The words were out before he could stop them.
“S'just, it’s like a mircle, y'know?” Shion murmurmed as he pulled himself closer to Rat. He was already falling back under the haze of sleep, his eyes drifting shut. “I used to, to dream ‘bout you a lot, you being here. But I’d always wake up, and you’d still b'gone. So it’s like a dream come true, when you’re here, s'all.”
“Mhm,” Rat hummed. He didn’t trust himself to speak around the knot in his throat, so he simply pulled Shion close, tucking the other man’s head beneath his chin.
No.6 had needed to fall. The city had needed to be restructured and rebuilt. Rat had needed to leave, to live away from the city that had destroyed and feasted upon everything he’d had, and defined his life in terms of hatred and revenge for as long as he could remember. Rat knew all of this to be true, and he didn’t regret that it had all come to pass.
But as Shion shifted, curling into himself against Rat’s chest, he wondered (not for the first time) what he could have done differently, how he could have what needed to be done without it all taking such a toll on Shion.
He ran his fingers absently through Shion’s hair, studying the silhouettes the moonlight projected on the wall. Soon enough Shion settled, his breaths once again growing deep and even.
Only then did Rat drift off to sleep.