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Damn that shit was close, but the people have spoken another Nikto thought it is
The bed and empty, well his side is. His warmth long gone, he left in the wee hours of the morning you guess. The sun hasn’t risen yet, black still paints the sky. Trudging out of bed, on a mission to find him, you see a dark figure and small speck glowing embers on the balcony. This isn’t the first time he’s needed a solace, not from you–god no never from you, but from himself. Thoughts, voices in his head, torment and taunt him, they tear sleep from his hands and laugh from within. He takes long drawls from a cigarette in the quiet darkness outside, hoping that the silence outside will somehow, someway bring a similar muted peace to his mind.
He knows you're there behind him, watching him. A small streak of anxiety runs through him, guilt of waking you, fear of your reaction to him like this. It's a cycle, never ending and ruthless: he forces himself to sleep, dreams of his past plague his mind, he jolts awake, leaves to the balcony for hours trying to turn his brain off, you look for him, and do what you always have done.
You open the door, the wind and chill of the night sweeps through your figure and seeps into your bones. You stand next him, not saying a word, he needs the quiet, needs peace, and you give him exactly that. Patiently you wait for him, a sign of life, something that tells both you and him that he’s here with you. He turns to look at you bloodshot blue eyes stare into your skull, you reach a hand up to touch him, stopping only centimeters away looking to him to give you permission to touch him. Soft fingers reach the side of his neck, ghosting over his pulse and cradling his face with the utmost care. Leaning your forehead against his, he closes his eyes and you begin to speak.
“Come home to me, Andre, come in out of the cold. We are safe here, we are home, come sit with me inside yea?” Your hand drops to his, taking it in your palm as you lead him inside and onto the couch. Tea waits for you both, sitting on the coffee table, but it does not get touched. Instead of the soothing burn of tea, he chooses the warmth and comfort of you. Leaning against you like a marble pillar, soft, stable and oh- so beautiful. Your heartbeat thrums against his ear, his limbs tangle within yours, you don't know where you end and where he starts, but neither of you care, content to stay entwined for eternity. Your eyes close, slipping into the depths of sleep again. Nikto decides to follow suit, he’s safe, he’s home. You are his home. You are his solace. He is ever thankful to the gods for blessing him with you. His mind races with you as he falls into a dreamless sleep.