Miki didn't remember when she'd finally fallen asleep.
The city lights outside her window were muted behind curtains. Her bedroom smelled faintly of lavender linen spray and old paperbacks. She'd tossed once. Twice. Then, exhaustion took her.
But sometime after midnight, she felt something.
A presence. A soft shuffle.
Her eyes cracked open.
Celeste stood by her bedside, blanket still wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, hair a little messy, face half-hidden in the shadows.
Miki frowned. "What are you doing?"
"I can't sleep," Celeste whispered, voice low and childlike. "The couch is too narrow. The plant keeps looking at me."
Miki sighed, sitting up slightly. "It's not looking at you. It's a plant."
"I don't trust it."
"God, you're annoying when you're drunk."
Celeste didn't argue. She just gave a very small, very pitiful blink.
"…Can I sleep here?"
There was a long pause.
Miki groaned and moved aside, pulling the blanket away from her half of the bed. "Only sleep. No weird CEO moves."
Celeste didn't even wait. She slipped under the blanket, sighing as if she'd been granted divine permission.
Miki faced the wall.
But before she could fully settle—
Arms wrapped around her waist.
Then a soft whisper in her ear.
"I can't sleep unless I'm hugging something."
Miki stiffened. "Then how do you sleep at your place?"
Celeste nuzzled closer. "I hug a pillow."
Miki rolled her eyes. "You're literally centuries old."
"This pillow's warmer than usual though," Celeste murmured. Her hand drifted lower, brushing against Miki's chest — and gave a gentle, absolutely intentional squeeze.
Miki jolted. "Hey!"
She slapped Celeste's hand away, face burning. "You said you wouldn't touch me!"
Celeste hummed, completely unrepentant. "We both have the same thing. If I offended you, you can touch mine."
And before Miki could even respond, Celeste grabbed her wrist and guided her hand up to her own chest — shameless, smug.
Miki yanked her hand back like it was on fire.
"You're unbelievable!" she hissed.
Celeste just gave a lazy grin. "You're cute when you're flustered."
Miki buried her face into the pillow. "Just sleep. Or I'll kick you out of the apartment this time."
Celeste didn't argue again.
She pressed her cheek to Miki's shoulder, curling in. Her hand rested gently on Miki's waist, not moving anymore.
And finally… silence.
Miki didn't know how long it lasted — the calm, the weight of someone so ancient and powerful breathing softly against her. She could feel Celeste's heartbeat. Slow. Rhythmic. Strange.
She didn't mean to notice.
She didn't mean to like it.
But she did.
---
By the time Miki's eyes fluttered shut again, her last thought wasn't about frustration.
It was a quiet, reluctant realization:
> "She feels safe here too."
---