Work Text:
The reading nook had become your favorite place in the apartment.
It wasn't anything particularly impressive. A comfortable chair tucked beside the window, a small lamp casting a warm pool of light over the pages in your lap, and a bookshelf that was slowly beginning to buckle beneath the weight of your growing collection. There was a soft blanket thrown over the armrest and a little table beside you that currently held a cup of tea you'd forgotten to drink.
Outside, rain tapped steadily against the glass. You turned another page and settled deeper into the chair. The front door opened sometime later, you barely noticed until the quiet sound of footsteps approached.
“You've been sitting there for three hours.”
You looked up to find Zayne standing in the doorway, his coat already removed and draped over one arm. His gaze moved from you to the book in your hands, then to the untouched tea beside you.
You glanced toward the clock. “That sounds like an accusation.”
“It was an observation,” he replied, though the faintest hint of amusement touched his expression. “One that suggests you may have forgotten that you're supposed to be resting.”
“I am resting.”
Zayne looked at the book, then at you. “Reading isn't exactly what I had in mind.”
“You're going to have to be more specific. I'm quite comfortable.”
“I can see that.” There was something suspiciously close to fondness in the way he said it.
You smiled and turned another page, hoping that would end the discussion. It didn't.
A moment later, Zayne crossed the room and pulled the small chair beside yours closer. He sat down, opened his own book, and settled back as though he'd been there all along.
You looked at him curiously. “What are you doing?”
“Apparently, I'm supervising your rest.”
You laughed softly. “That's not a very relaxing way to put it.”
“I didn't say I was supervising.”
“You just did.”
“I said apparently.”
You shook your head, smiling as you returned to your book.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The rain filled the silence between you, accompanied by the occasional turn of a page. Every so often, you caught yourself glancing toward Zayne. He read with the same quiet concentration he brought to nearly everything else, his glasses sitting low on his nose, one hand resting against the edge of his book. There was something comforting about having him there without needing to entertain him or fill the silence.
You didn't have to talk. He didn't either. Eventually, though, the words on your page began to blur. You blinked and reread the same sentence. Then again.
“You've been on that page for quite some time.”
You looked over at him.
“I was thinking.”
“About the same paragraph?”
You glanced down. He was right.
“It’s a complicated paragraph.”
That earned you a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Of course it is.”
You gave him a mildly offended look before attempting to continue. It didn't work. Your eyelids were getting heavier by the minute.
Zayne closed his book. “You're tired.”
“I can keep reading.”
“I don't doubt that. I'm questioning whether you'll remember any of it tomorrow.”
You sighed and let your book rest against your lap. “You make a very convincing argument.”
“I usually do.”
You laughed quietly, then shifted beneath the blanket. Somewhere between getting comfortable and trying to keep your eyes open, your head came to rest against his shoulder. You expected him to say something. He didn't. Instead, you felt him adjust slightly beneath you, making sure you were comfortable before picking his book back up. The warmth of him beside you made it considerably harder to stay awake.
“Are you still reading?” you murmured.
“I was.”
You smiled sleepily. “Why'd you stop?”
There was a pause. “You were using my shoulder.” The answer was so matter-of-fact that you couldn't help smiling.
“Am I bothering you?”
“No.” His answer came immediately.
You relaxed against him. “Good.” A few seconds passed. “Zayne?”
“Yes?”
“Can we stay like this for a little while?”
His gaze dropped briefly to you. There was a softness in his expression that you probably would have missed if you hadn't been looking for it.
“We have nowhere else to be.”
Your eyes slipped closed. The rain continued against the window, and the warmth of his shoulder beneath your cheek made the rest of the world feel very far away. Zayne reopened his book, reading one-handed for a while, careful not to disturb you. When he reached the end of the page, he looked down, you were already asleep. He quietly pulled the blanket a little higher around you before returning to his book.
He had originally intended to stay for one hour but he found himself making no effort to leave when that hour passed.