Steve grunts and messily reaches for the blanket beside him. He grabs one corner and pulls it against him like a huge teddy bear. His foot tangles with the end of it.
He is officially a burrito in process.
The room is quite cold around this temperature, so Steve assumes the blanket would warm him up. Turns out that the blanket laid open for such a long time that the inside of it was cold too. He dreadingly counted the minutes of when he would be warm.
The room wasn't fully dark, it was more of a dark blue which you still can't see in. Light through the window shone more than expected and the night stand glowed as well. Yet — even if you squint your eyes or adjust to the dark — you couldn't anything but the lighter areas.
The alarm clock shined bright red as a warning of how late it is. As if it's yelling at him to go to sleep. Obviously, he tried, but failed. But failing isn't an option, and the clock won't accept it either. Luckily, it's all metaphoric and only telling the time.
2:37 AM
A bright light exposes him in bed. His eyelids let the light through. It's not the usual daunting red light, it's soft. Blue perhaps, or a warm yellow.
The door shuts and Steve manages to open his eyes. They're opened with force and dart around the room. It's dark and its not like he had night vision, but he still looks.
The bed dents and the sheets shuffle around.
There's a moment of panic in the bed. Steve hesitating who it is and the figure breathing rapidly.
A small hand searches the bed and wraps around Steve's arm. Steve smiles and turns to face the figure.
He knows who it is. He figured he would come eventually, but assuming he'd be asleep by then. That's what normally happens at least. The clock might have yelled at him but didn't let him know that it was already that late.
He pulls it closer and feels an arm placed gently around his waist and a hand resting on his chest. Without hesitation, he kisses its head. It's warmer under the blanket now.
Two fingers were placed on his lips, tracing the outline of his mouth.
"Hey" Steve softly said, talking with his mouth in the figure's curls.
A short sniff is heard and his shirt damps lightly. He pauses.
"wanna talk about it?"
Another hitched breath answers him; obviously not. A voice muffles into his shirt and Steve feels the vibrations in his chest. Its soothing but exciting.
He hugs the figure tighter and reaches for the lamp. His clock falls on the floor but he managed to turn on the light.
"Tony?"
Tony shakes his head.
"Turn it off" he grunts.
"Okay"
And it was dark again.
"Will you please tell me what's wrong?"
Steve feels Tony's chest rise and not come down, as if he's holding his breath. Perhaps to stop himself from hitching, or to feel some kind of control over himself.
"They're back again"
"the thoughts?"
"the thoughts."
"you said they were gone. it was confirmed"
"well things come back, Steve"
He pauses.
