Space Man

Sleeping Shishwammy

I didn’t think I was being too harsh on him—not really. I mean, he deserved to earn back some trust after everything that happened, didn’t he? I told myself it was just his bad timing, his persistence wearing me down when I wasn’t ready.

But... maybe I’d taken it too far.

I could still hear their words echoing in my head. Ren’s tone, so uncharacteristically firm. Beef’s exasperation. XB’s quiet but pointed remarks. Even Etho, who rarely weighed in, had something to say. It wasn’t often they all agreed on something, but this time, they had all turned on me.

I was frustrated—angry even—but mostly at myself. I didn’t know how to process everything they’d said, let alone how to fix it. So I left.

My feet moved before my brain caught up, leading me through familiar hallways, past rooms that felt like distant memories, until I was standing outside his door.

I didn’t even knock.

The room was dim, quiet except for the faint sound of his breathing. I could see his silhouette on the bed, still as if he were asleep, though I couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. Maybe he wasn’t even really sleeping; I didn’t know.

I didn’t care.

I slipped into the room, the weight of my own exhaustion and the sting of their words pressing down on me. Without a second thought, I crawled onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under my weight.

I didn’t say a word.

My face was still damp from earlier, tear tracks cooling against my skin. I ignored them, burying my face into his chest as I wrapped my arms around him. I couldn’t explain why I was there or what I hoped to gain from it. I just knew that I needed comfort, and somehow, despite everything, he was the only one who could give it to me.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to just... exist. No defenses, no walls, no anger or frustration. Just me, clinging to him, hoping he wouldn’t push me away.

It didn’t take long for sleep to overtake me after I settled into his bed, clinging to him like my life depended on it. My arms were wrapped around him, my face pressed into his chest, and I held on as if letting go would make everything worse.

I didn’t want him to move. I didn’t want to move.

I felt so bad—worse than bad, really. Every interaction we’d had over the past few weeks replayed in my head like a never-ending loop. The way he’d tried to reach out to me, only for me to shut the door in his face, both literally and figuratively. The way his tone softened every time he spoke to me, his actions quiet but meaningful, and I’d brushed them off.

And then the fight.

Their voices haunted me. Ren’s frustration, XB’s carefully chosen words, Beef’s blunt honesty—it all echoed in my mind, reminding me of how unfair I’d been. They were right, weren’t they? Even Etho, with his usual detached demeanor, had pointed out how I’d let my frustration boil over to the point of tears.

I didn’t cry often. Not in front of people, anyway. But they’d seen it, and now he’d seen it too.

I felt the sting of guilt deep in my chest as I latched onto him, burying myself in his warmth. I didn’t deserve this—not his kindness, not his patience, not even this moment.

And yet, as sleep pulled me under, I couldn’t bring myself to let go.

Waking up the next morning, I felt a wave of confusion and disorientation. For a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was or how I’d ended up here. The unfamiliarity of his room, the faint sound of the server humming outside the window—it all took a second to register.

But then, I felt him. Warm, steady, and comforting. His presence grounded me, the slow rise and fall of his chest soothing in a way I couldn’t explain.

I didn’t move, not at first. The temptation to shift closer, to bury myself further in that warmth, was overwhelming. But what caught my attention more than anything was his face. His helmet wasn’t on, leaving him vulnerable in a way I’d rarely seen.

He looked peaceful, his features soft in the morning light. There was a gentleness to him that I hadn’t fully appreciated before.

He was... so pretty.

The thought made my chest tighten, and for a brief moment, I felt the overwhelming temptation to kiss him. It was right there, an opportunity so tantalizing it almost felt cruel. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Not yet.

I didn’t want to push my boundaries, not after everything. Instead, I just lay there, taking him in. Every line, every scar, every little detail of his face that I’d never been able to notice before.

He was beautiful in ways I’d never allowed myself to admit. And for now, that was enough.

His beauty was definitely one of the reasons why I was so quick to forgive him. I wanted to stay mad at him—I really did—but I couldn’t. There was something about the way he looked when he was truly happy, the way his face lit up with that unguarded joy. It was contagious, and it made me happy too.

And his face... I don’t know why he hides it so much. He’s got the cutest expressions, like every emotion he feels is written so clearly on his features. I could have spent hours just admiring him, soaking in the warmth and comfort his presence brought.

The frustration I’d carried with me for days began to melt away as I allowed myself to relax. I ended up falling asleep again, more peacefully this time, letting the safety of the moment lull me into rest.

But it didn’t last forever.

When he woke me up later and gently asked what had happened last night, I froze. I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t even know how to explain the storm of emotions that had brought me to his room in the first place. The guilt, the frustration, the overwhelming need to be near him—it was all too much to put into words.

Instead, I buried my face in his arm, hoping he’d drop the question. But the moment my tears started falling, I knew he wouldn’t.

I cried, unable to hold back the emotions any longer. Everything I’d been carrying—the weight of our fight, the scolding from the others, the guilt of how I’d treated him—it all came spilling out in those tears.

And he just held me. No questions, no demands for an explanation. Just quiet, unwavering comfort.