Work Text:
Fabric shifts, someone stirring beside him as the sun rises, the golden rays filtering through and casting a rainbow of colours against the cold stone and motley fabric that makes up the rest of his room, shifting through every surface, never quite settling on one hue or another.
He thinks they might be moving to get up, his tail reckless in swiping out to curl around their waist, keeping them in place, the corner of his lips just a touch higher at the warmth, their sleepy chuckle coaxing him to lower his head again, not quite asleep, not quite awake.
“Stay?”
His partner remains silent, sinking back into the bed and Jury feels more than sees as the blanket is shifted higher, over his shoulder and nestling him further in a warmth he has no plans of escaping from, a dip in the mattress as they lay back down, his hold on them loosening just a touch at the reassurance that he wasn’t going to be left all by his lonesome for the moment.
There’s no will to raise his head away from the pillow, the fact he probably didn’t look as perfect as he should keeping him from daring, his begging already a touch too much sleep-addled as he was but the hand now in his hair, the soft scratch of nails against his scalp, fingers brushing through the strands and getting rid of any knots that may have developed overnight.
It felt domestic and a part of him revels in it. The warmth of a touch that’s lazy affection, asking for nothing and providing so much, eyes fluttering shut at the ministrations. “You missed your calling.” Half-muttered praise, heavy with slumber as much as every other aspect of his body was, calling him to the other side with a siren song. “Might be more glad for it though, I can keep your hands all to myself.” A mumble, slurred words, perfectly warm, perfectly content, even in their silence, the edges of his vision clouded in something that could only be a pastel of rainbow, maybe from the light?
Curtains would be a good investment.
“Sweet-” Either the start of an endearment or more compliments, as his quiet companion moves closer, the faint hint of a breath near him, the gentle warmth, scentless aside from the ever-persistent fresh linen, warmed by the sun and that hint of whatever it was that simply reminded him of rested nights and lingering mornings, words cut off by the sensation of them coming closer, tucked to his side as if to reassure him they weren’t going anywhere, a gentle hand at his hip and Jury huffs a laugh, more air than anything else.
Curling further into the half-embrace, as he feels the breeze pick up slightly, a window he forgot to close allowing the wind to pick up, carrying a chill into the room, a few loose pieces of hair picking up and caught astray, a lover’s caress putting them back into place only for them to pick up again.
It was colder, or rather, it was simply getting colder, perhaps a change of the weather, a hint of snow to come or rain to arrive, a storm on the horizon that he could admire when he was fully awake, for now, he can’t help but shiver, seeking the warmth with a blind hand only to find nothing.
Eyes open, adjusting to the sight of pale moonlight flooding the room.
The sight of an empty bed.
A dream.
Gods.
He was freezing.