The room was bathed in a soft, moonlit glow, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls. The clock ticked steadily, marking the slow passage of time in a way that seemed both comforting and maddening. I lay next to Melo, my mind buzzing with thoughts that refused to settle.
Melo's breathing was calm and rhythmic, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling in my head. I turned onto my side, trying not to disturb him, but the sheets felt like they were closing in on me, too warm and suffocating. I glanced at him, his face relaxed and peaceful, and felt a pang of envy for his tranquility.
As I shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position, Melo stirred slightly. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, his touch light and reassuring. I wanted to tell him about the thoughts racing through my mind—the worries, the plans, the uncertainties—but I didn't want to disturb his sleep.
Instead, I tried to focus on the rhythmic sound of his breathing, a soft lullaby against the chaos in my head. I let my eyes wander around the room, finding comfort in the familiar details: the framed photos on the nightstand, the cozy throw blanket draped over the chair.
Minutes turned into hours, and despite my best efforts, sleep remained elusive. Melo, sensing my restlessness, shifted closer and wrapped an arm around me. His warmth and closeness were grounding, a silent promise that everything would be alright.
In the stillness of the night, I felt a shift within myself. The worries didn't disappear, but they felt more manageable, softened by his presence. I closed my eyes, trying to let go of the anxiety and simply be in the moment. With Melo's steady heartbeat against my back and the gentle rise and fall of his chest, I finally started to drift off, surrendering to the comforting embrace of the night.
It wasn't the perfect solution to a sleepless night, but it was enough.
