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The night is quiet, and the breeze chilly. Yet, even as the wind keeps blowing through the cold night, his eyes, his small rare (but genuine) smile, and his presence beside you is anything but cool.
It almost feels like a miracle, having made the famed ‘second coming of the detective prince’ lower his guard as so with you—then again, perhaps it is to be expected after knowing him for some time by now.
“Goro?”
The single utter of his name from your lips captures him, you know.
His hand by yours jumps ever so slightly, before relaxing even more than before—a subtle movement that assures the both of you that you are still here. He almost could not catch you calling his name, but the quiet helped it stand out more, and so he does clearly. Your eyes are still shut close, though his have been open for quite some time now, serenely looking at you even with his own droopy eyelids.
He lets out a small hum, “yes?”, and the smile that arises on your face widens his a little more in turn.
“Stay a bit longer. Rest.”
Your words are soft and comforting—listening to it feels like having a warm blanket draped over him, and a mug of hot coffee brought to his lips by someone else’s hand, rather than his.
A foreign feeling for him, as you both know.
Tomorrow will be a new day—he knows not what it will hold (or does he?), and neither do you, but he couldn’t care any less (not right now, at least.)
This is the moment, and this moment is with you.
And so the boy allows himself to rest for a while, even if this calming respite is sure not to last long—he’ll take in as much of it as he can, while still possible, in this ephemeral moment by your side.