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It was very early in the morning, maybe five? Zeke isn't too sure. He lay in bed, heavy with exhaustion, blue eyes half-closed as the soft light of dawn crept through the curtains. Another sleepless night. The sun was already rising, casting a pale glow over his room. He sighed, rubbing his temples.
Today was the day he’d promised his dad he’d babysit Eren while he and Carla were out. At the time, it hadn’t seemed like such a big deal. But now, running on barely any sleep, the idea of entertaining a hyperactive little brother felt more like a punishment than a favor.
Still, a promise was a promise. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feet hitting the cold floor, and groaned. He had this bad habit of not being able to sleep if anything important was coming up, and this moment was a exemple.
Grandpa was probably already up, perhaps reading the morning newspaper like always before getting ready for some work. Grandma would still be sleeping a few hours before walking up and saying something about breakfast, and then the house would move on like it always did, like Zeke wasn’t quietly falling apart in the background.
Eventually, he did dragged himself to the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face, then leaned on the sink, staring at his reflection for a moment. He looked… tired. Way more than a twelve year old should. His blue eyes were dull, skin paler than usual. He wondered if his grandparents ever even noticed. Or cared.
After a long pause, he turned off the light and shuffled back to his room frowning. The bed was still warm, the sheets slightly tangled before laying on them again. He hadn’t planned on laying back down, but once he did it was like his body gave up. Just for a minute, he told himself, just to rest his eyes.
Zeke finally woke up a few hours later, though “woke up” felt like too strong of a word. It was more like he drifted out of sleep the way smoke fades out of the air. His room was way brighter now, the sunlight sharp against the window. Too bright. His head ached from it. His body felt heavy once again.
He didn’t move at first. Just stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly. He’d dreamt about nothing, or maybe something he couldn’t remember. It really didn’t matter either way.
From the hallway, muffled voices filtered in soft but insistent, for sure one of them was definitely his grandma. Her light tone carried through the old walls like wind through a cracked window, the other was unmistakably Eren’s high-pitched voice.
“…he’s still sleeping?” To that his grandma just warmly smiled trying to make the little child understand, “He’s just tired, honey. Let him rest a little longer.” A upset expression appeared on the child's face before crossing his little arms, “But I wanna play–”
“She said later, Eren.” That tone was definitely their father's.
Zeke slowly turned his head toward the door, face buried halfway into the pillow. His throat was dry. His limbs refused to listen to him. He could probably fall back asleep again, if he really tried. Maybe even for the rest of the day.
But Eren was up and soon, he’d be knocking on Zeke’s door, bouncing off the walls, dragging him into whatever five year old game he had in mind. Zeke closed his eyes again, he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to speak, he just wanted the world to slow down and let him catch up.
Just five more minutes. Maybe ten. Then he’d definitely get up. Then he’d be the big brother again.
Zeke dragged himself up. He moved real slowly, a hoodie pulled over his head to hide the mess of his blonde hair and the tired droop in his face. He rubbed his eyes and stood there for a moment, feet sunk into the carpet, steadying himself like getting out of bed was something harder than it should be.
Outside his room, the house was lit up with warm yellow light of the morning. The clink of silverware, the faint smell of eggs and coffee. He stepped into the kitchen quietly.
“Good morning, Zeke,” his grandma called from the stove giving him a quick smile before returning to the stove, “There’s toast and eggs if you’re hungry.”
He just nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Thank you ,” he simply said.
Eren’s head popped up from the other side of the table immediately, face lighting up instantly, “Zeke! You slept forever! I made you a drawing! Wanna see it? It’s a dragon but it has rocket wings and shoots lightning!”
Zeke stared at the crayon mess of red and yellow and other colour scribbles. His hands were cold, his stomach didn’t really want food. But he still looked excited seeing Eren's drawing, truly a young Pablo Picasso, "Woahhh Eren this looks so cool!”
“Zeke, a word please?” Grisha said quietly a few minutes later, already turning and walking into the next room, his voice low but with that same tone that meant Zeke didn’t have a choice exactly. It wasn’t really a request. It never was.
Zeke followed without a word quietly, dragging his feet slightly. The soft click of it closing sounded louder than it should have. It always did. “Have you talked to your mother yet? Did she come by?” His father asked, turning to face him. Of course he would bring that up now.
Zeke shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking toward the window, anywhere but his father's face. “No,” he said after a moment trying not to seem upset. “She didn’t visit.”
Grisha just sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if thinking. “She said she would, I told her this weekend would be a good time.” Zeke shrugged, trying hard to sound indifferent, even if it stung. “Mom probably just forgot. I'm not in charge of what she does, she's really busy..”
Grisha let out a breath, more tired than angry surprisingly. “I know, I just... I wish she would show more effort. For your sake.” Zeke bit down on the words he wanted to say, you mean for your sake. He could never argue back although.
Ever since the divorce, his parents barely even spoke. And even when they did, it was always through him, like he was the last thread. Grisha lived happily now with his wife Carla and Eren. His new family. The one that felt whole and warm and loud in a way Zeke’s never really did. Even his mom Dina is doing something with her life, meanwhile Zeke lived with his grandparents, a quiet, dusty house that didn’t feel like home so much.
Zeke stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking softly behind him, but Grisha’s presence still clung to him like heavy dust. He didn't say it, but Zeke could feel it, that look Grisha gave him, the one that was honestly more disappointed than concerned. Like Zeke had failed some invisible standard again.
It was always like that with his father. When Grisha looked at Eren his eyes are always softened, his voice lowered, he even laughed more. He got down on the floor and played with him, like being a dad came so naturally now.
But when it comes to Zeke, it was always tension. Always expectations, always quiet judgement if he could say so. The only time Grisha really saw him was when he was asking about Dina or school. He soon heard Eren’s giggle from the other room, Carla’s voice gently scolding him for running with crayons in hand and almost drawing on the walls. It was warm and bright in there, and Zeke was already an outsider again, standing in the hallway like some guest who had overstayed their visit.
He stayed still, the blonde kid wanted to walk back in but for some forsaken reasons he stepped back slowly walking back to his room, his body betraying his thoughts. He wanted to cry but he didn’t.
A few minutes later, Zeke sat quietly on his bed, knees drawn up, his favorite plush toy, a small worn-out monkey held very tightly to his chest. It was one of the few things that had stayed the same through everything. The little button-eyed monkey didn’t ask a million questions or expect anything from him. It just sat there and let him hold on dearly.
A soft knock came at the door, followed by Carla’s gentle voice. “May I come in?”
The child hesitated, quickly loosening his grip on the plush, but not setting it aside yet. “Yeah,” He simply mumbled.
Carla opened the door slowly, her kind eyes peeking in before she stepped inside. She smoothed out her skirt with a quick familiar gesture and gave a warm and almost apologetic smile.
“Hi, sweetheart. You doing alright? Eren’s been asking for you again, he wants to show you his whole dragon army now, the army won’t listen to him without their chief which I can only assume he means you,” she said with a light chuckle.
Zeke blinked rapidly, then nodded just as quickly. “O-Of course. I…was just about to change and come out,” he mumbled with a little smile. It was only half a lie. He did need to change but mostly he needed space. Time to get his breathing back under control.
“Well, alright then,” Carla said kindly. She turned toward the door to leave but paused, glancing back. “Oh by the way, Grisha and I will be out for just a few hours. If anything happens, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?” Zeke nodded again, a little slower this time.
Carla genuinely smiled. “I might talk Grisha into stopping by that bakery on the way back. Is there anything you'd like us to bring for you?” Zeke’s chest suddenly tightened at the offer. He knew she meant well, Carla always did, but the idea of her spending money on him felt...wrong.
“I’m okay,” He said very quickly, eyes dropping to the floor. “You could get Eren something though, he’d probably like that.” Carla hesitated for just a breath, her smile softening. “Alright,”
After getting in more comfortable clothes, which means a loose t-shirt and some shorts, he finally walked back to where everyone was. He walked slowly until Eren’s voice rang out from the living room.
“Zeke!!”
Zeke barely had time to brace himself before a blur of wild brown hair and tiny socked feet ran straight at him in full speed. Eren flung his arms around Zeke’s, nearly knocking the air from him.
“You said you were coming!” Eren looked up at him, green eyes like Carla’s so bright. “You’re late! The dragons are all fighting now and I can’t make them stop!”
Zeke looked down, his mouth twitching into the smallest happy smile, “Sorry,” he said, resting a hand on Eren’s head ruffling it with a giggle. “The chief got delayed..”
Eren didn’t care, he grabbed Zeke’s sleeve and tugged hard, already talking over himself as he dragged him toward the living room floor where a blanket fortress had taken over half the rug. Plastic toys, mismatched action figures, and more toys.
Zeke let himself be pulled along, it was easier to follow. As he sat down cross-legged on the floor, Eren immediately handed him the battered blue dragon toy which its tail half-bent and was missing an eye.
“This one’s yours,” Eren said proudly. “It’s the strongest! But the mean red one’s trying to steal its powers...” Zeke nodded slowly interested, taking the toy and holding it between his fingers. “Guess we'll have to stop him then,”
Soon Carla passed once on her way out, coat on, purse in hand. She leaned down to kiss Eren’s cheek lovingly while the child tried acting tough like he didn't care, then glanced toward Zeke,
“We’ll be back in a bit,” She said softly once again. “Call if you need anything.” Zeke just nodded. Grisha followed behind her immediately, phone in one hand, barely glancing up before giving Zeke one of his usual disappointed looks. How unfortunate.
The front door clicked shut. Silence returned for a second, except for the sound of toys clashing and Eren’s nonstop commentary, soon their grandparents started talking so it wasn't so silent anymore.
“Alright,” Zeke said, raising his toy slowly up, “But this time, he’s bringing backup...” Eren gasped, fully committed to their silly play. “What?! He has a secret army?!”
Zeke reached into the pile of random toys and grabbed two figures, “These guys,” His big brother said with a dramatic tone, “..have been hiding in the forest... waiting for the perfect moment to strike!”
Eren’s eyes widened. “That’s not fair! No forest army! You didn’t say they were there!” To that Zeke smirked playfully, “Well you didn’t ask.” Eren groaned, flopping back dramatically onto the rug before sitting back on it normally, “Ugh..The king is gonna lose!” Zeke leaned over his dragon and made it fly again, this time with a loud, exaggerated childish whoosh. “Only if he gives up,”
Eren burst into laughter for some reasons at that. And Zeke found himself laughing too. Not a small breath through the nose. Not a forced, polite sound. An actual laugh, light, a bit tired, but real. It caught him by surprise.
As the game continued Zeke added, well, tried doing a deep voice for the dragon which only made him sound even more silly so Eren laughed hard, he fell over when Zeke made a tiger toy roar.
About an hour later, the living room was a full-blown 'war zone'. Blankets were bunched into crumpled forts, toys laying scattered in dramatic defeat, and action figures stuck out of couch cushions like fallen soldiers. Eren was sprawled across the floor on his stomach, legs kicking lazily behind him, narrating a dramatic end for their play.
Eren rolled onto his back suddenly to look into Zeke's eyes, “You’re really good at being the chief, you know?” Zeke blinked for a moment, really caught off guard. “Uh oh… thanks?”
Eren smiled happily before standing up. “No really! Better than dad! He doesn’t even do the voices!” Zeke let out a small laugh at that, “I guess I’m just more committed to the role?”
“Yeah!” Eren said, flopping his arm over Zeke’s leg like a hug when the blonde stood up too, “You should live with me! Then we could do this every day! We can share my room!” To that Zeke went quiet. The words hit a strange spot in his chest.
He reached over and ruffled Eren’s hair gently. “You’d probably get sick of me eventually.”
Zeke blinked once again slowly, eyes unfocused as some old memories crept in. He could count on only one hand the so called numbers of times Grisha had ever “played” with him. Now years later, hearing Eren chuckle and complain about father, Zeke felt something cave in a little. Not anger at Eren, never at his little brother. But a quiet, sinking ache in his chest that was eating him.
Grisha plays with Eren. He lifts his little son onto his shoulders, tosses him in the air, lets him sit on his lap during movie nights, laughs with him, listen, gives him patience, love. He’s the type of father Zeke used to wish he had growing up.
Zeke then sat slouched in the chair nearby, his hands loosely resting in his lap, eyes unfocused on the floor. Eren on the other hand was chattering occasionally to himself about something before he ran off to talk to their grandparents. Zeke had stopped listening, the quiet only made his thoughts louder.
Zeke disliked Grisha. Now the man is some amazing, smiling, patient father with a perfect wife who makes pancakes and actually wants to talk to him and a son he genuinely hugs without a second thought.
Zeke wasn’t even living with them. He was twelve and living at his grandparents’ place like a forgotten thing no one knew what to do with anymore. A weird leftover.
And Dina? His mother?
She was hardly around anymore. Said she was busy, always busy. Said she’d come next weekend. Or the one after that. Sometimes she didn’t even call. She hadn’t called in two weeks. Last time they even spoke it was over a crackly phone line where she apologized a million times for not making it to his school baseball play. She said that she missed him. He didn’t believe her anymore.
Despite everything that had happened, Zeke couldn't bring himself to hate his parents to the core. Sure, he had his fair share of issues with them, particularly Grisha, and did they ever love him? Probably not. That fact was the thing that ached the most.
It wasn’t the yelling or the pressure that stayed with him the most, it was the absence. The silence that followed, the way Grisha never really saw him. Dina on the other hand was a gentler kind of disappointment sadly. She said all the right words but never really followed through. She had once held his hand a little too tightly in public and let go too easily in private.
But still. He couldn’t hate them. He wanted to. He tried to, really tried, but it was harder than it should’ve been, because deep down buried beneath the tired anger and that hollow resentment was only the smallest flicker of a kid who still wanted their love.
It would’ve been so much easier if he could just hate them, turn all of it off and shove them into some dark corner of his mind and stop wondering why he wasn’t enough for them. But it didn’t work that way.
“Zeeeke,” Eren mumbled in a singsong voice from under one of the blankets suddenly, “Can we play again later?” Zeke blinked out of his thoughts and looked at the small lump of his half-brother across the room.
Half-brother.
Even that term felt strange on his tongue. Like it marked them as very different, even though Eren didn’t see it that way. “Yeah,” Zeke said quietly. “Of course.” He didn’t know what kind of brother he was supposed to be at this point.
The clinking of cutlery was the loudest sound in the kitchen as some time passed by. Across from him, Eren was swinging his legs and humming between mouthfuls, crumbs of toast clinging to his cheeks.
Their grandparents were in the kitchen too, grandpa was just trying to finish the newspapers from this morning before Grisha and Carla came, meanwhile their grandma was busy making pie for her beloved son to take home. Zeke just chewed slowly, trying not to think too much.
“Carla said they’ll be back before dinner,” Grandpa added absently. “You’ll be okay with him ‘til then?” Zeke gave a tired nod. “Yeah, I'll be fine.” He felt like a guest in his own bloodline if he could be honest.
Eren then accidentally spilled a bit of juice, grandma turned sharply and handed him a napkin, her tone soft and patient, “Be careful, sweetheart..These tablecloths wash rather hard,”
Zeke blinked at the exchange. When he’d spilled juice once, like years ago, Grisha had scolded him in front of a guest and made him clean it silently. He hadn’t even cried. Just swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
Across from him, Eren took another bite of toast, smiling like the world was so simple. And maybe for him it was. Zeke swallowed hard even if his throat was dry, trying not to feel jealous of a five year old who's also his brother.
Later, after the plates were cleared and grandma had started folding the laundry in the living room while watching one of her boring dating shows, Zeke and Eren retreated into Zeke’s room.
The air was cooler there, the window cracked open just a little, zeke didn’t bother to close it. He just flopped down on the floor beside his low dresser and pulled out a box of old markers and bent coloring pencils.
They spread out on the floor, white papers between them, legs crossed or sprawled in whichever way was comfortable for them. Zeke wasn’t really drawing anything at the moment, just aimlessly sketching shapes and shadows while Eren chattered beside him, already on his third messy drawing.
“I’m drawing Mikasa now!” Eren said suddenly very excited, “She’s really good at fighting! She can punch harder than anyone!” Zeke glanced up at that “Is she the same age as you?”
“Yeah I think..But she’s crazy strong! One time a big bad kid from kindergarten tried to take Armin’s sandwich and she just grabbed him and said ‘give it back!’ and he did! Right away!” Eren’s voice pitched higher with excitement, his hands waving in the air for clear emphasis. “And Armin’s super really smart too! He knows like everything! And he always tells me when my math is wrong but not in a mean way, just in an Armin way!”
Zeke just nodded again, drawing a slow line across his own page before muttering. “Sounds like you’ve got some great friends,” The little kid's smile got wider at that, “Yeah they’re awesome! Armin’s gonna invent something so cool one day and Mikasa will be like... I dunno, a superhero or something!”
“Okay, so,” Eren began once again, dramatically outlining something with a red crayon which Zeke thinks it's a scarf, “Mikasa said I couldn’t jump off the swing yesterday just ‘cause I fell last time I tried but Armin said it was fine if I aimed for the grass and not the concrete again..”
Zeke raised an eyebrow, not looking up. “Yeah, sounds pretty smart.”
Eren completely missed the sarcasm, obviously. “Right?! That’s what I said too! But then Mikasa got all grumpy and crossed her arms and just sat there until I promised not to, she’s kinda bossy but also really cool...I think she could beat up a bear if she wanted.”
Eren kept continuing, now with rosy cheeks, “Sometimes I get mad at them, but it’s alright, ‘cause we make up afterwards, Armin says all friends fight sometimes. You ever fight with your friends Zeke?” The older child paused, his pencil hovering over the paper.
He didn't answer right away. “I don’t..really have friends like that,” he muttered finally, voice low. Eren stopped coloring for a second and looked up at him with a puzzled frown not understanding, “Why not?”
Zeke forced a small shrug, he really didn't want to have a conversation like this right now especially, “Uh I guess... I’m not easy to be friends with?..I suppose?” That made Eren go quiet once more, not sad, just thoughtful in the way kids sometimes are when they don’t really understand something.
Eren then went back to drawing after a moment, “Well... I’m gonna be your friend too, okay?” Zeke didn’t say anything at first. He just nodded, as always.
The scribbling of different crayons continued for a few more minutes in companionable silence. “I’m drawing my family!” Eren announced suddenly, holding up his paper with a big grin.
Hearing that Zeke looked up, the drawing itself was kinda messy and childlike but still sweet, a small stick-figure version of Eren stood in the middle, his spiky brown hair exaggerated. On either side of him were two taller figures, one had Carla’s signature hairstyle while the other was clearly Grisha, with glasses and a scribbled coat drawn around his stick body.
The three figures were holding hands. A big, crooked heart floated over their heads. As much as Zeke didn't want to admit it, his stomach kinda twisted inside, “Oh, that's nice,” he said simply. That was all he could manage honestly.
Zeke wanted to ask Eren something. Wanted to say, does dad ever yell at you like he used to yell at me? But he didn’t. Because he already knew the answer.
He tried not to think of that, his concern back to the drawing, his own drawing was very different from Eren's, Zeke didn’t actually draw himself in the picture. He just drew Mr. Ksaver. It felt more honest that way. Plus he thought about giving it to the older man next time they get to play catch.
He's probably gonna be happy, or at least Zeke hopes so, so far it looks alright...Maybe he could add himself too next to him.
“Hey what’s this?” Eren asked crouching beside a low shelf when Zeke wasn't paying attention, where an old slightly dusty photo album sat wedged between two forgotten notebooks. Zeke turned his head and immediately felt uncomfortable.
“That’s just some old stuff,” He muttered quickly, not quite ready to move but suddenly wishing he’d hidden the photo album better.
The first few pages were pretty harmless, only baby photos of Zeke, mostly awkward and red-faced, tucked in soft blankets or propped in his mother’s lap. His grandparents appeared here and there too. Eren then stopped, staring at a photo mid album.
“That’s my dad,” he said, squinting, his little finger pointing at it. “He looks funny,” Zeke didn’t reply to that, just looked away. Eren tilted his head slowly confused, “Who is the lady?” Zeke exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck wishing the earth could just swallow him right now. “That’s my mom..”
Eren stared a bit longer, even more confused. “Why’s he with your mom? I thought mom was dad's wife?”
“She is!” Zeke said immediately defensively, “..Well, now.” He muttered awkwardly at the end. Eren’s brow furrowed, “But... huh?” He flipped the page again, looking for answers in glossy pictures he couldn’t possibly piece together. But to him, it was just a strange picture. Something out of order.
“I don’t get it,” He mumbled, “How can he be your dad and my dad?… you don’t live with us..You don’t look like me.” That phrase stung more than Zeke expected it to.
“Let’s put that away now, okay? It's not that serious..,” Zeke gently closed the album taking it from the kid's hands immediately. Eren just nodded and didn’t argue. He got distracted almost instantly by a crayon stuck under the dresser anyway. Zeke placed the album back on the same shelf, pushing it deeper this time.
After a beat of silence Eren started speaking again, “Do we share dad?” Oh he was so tired of all this, he tried to think of a quick answer, “Yeah we share a dad I guess, that's my dad too I thought you'd know that by now but oh well..”
“That’s kinda cool!” Eren muttered with sudden excitement as he went back to drawing, Zeke didn’t answer at all.
The older kid sat on the edge of his bed now, elbows on his knees, watching without saying too much.His eyes sometimes lingering on the shelf where the album now sat half-buried behind old books.
“Zeke!” Eren chirped after a moment, looking up at the other, “Quick! What’s your favorite color?” Zeke blinked, caught off guard, thinking for a few seconds. “Uh… I don’t know..Maybe gray?”
Eren made a face at that, “Nuh! Gray’s boring!” Zeke just shrugged at that with a light chuckle, “Then I guess I’m boring.” Eren huffed and grabbed a blue crayon instead. “Fine, then I’ll pick for you. You can be...blue!”
Zeke watched as Eren scribbled, his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth again in that same little habit. He hadn’t even said what he was drawing this time, just dove straight into it like he already had a picture in his head. After a few minutes of chaotic coloring, Eren sat back with a proud grin and turned the page around.
“Look!”
Zeke leaned forward to see, “That’s you!” Eren pointed proudly. “See? I made us! I gave you a cool blue hoodie!” Sure enough, in the drawing, in Zeke’s hand was what looked like a very excited, lumpy monkey toy which just happened to lay next to him currently. Zeke stared.
Above them, Eren had also drawn a big, uneven sun and two clouds, the two stick figures were happily smiling. Zeke’s throat felt tight and he tried to ignore very hard the fact that his eyes were slightly wet.
“You…drew me?”
“Yeah!” Eren beamed. “It’s us! ‘Cause we’re brothers, remember? You just said that, I wanted to hang it on your wall! Do you like it?”
“Thank you,” Zeke said softly still staring at the drawing with a giggle, “That’s…actually really good.” Eren puffed his chest a little, proudly. “I know.”
“Kids?” Their grandmother’s voice called gently opening Zeke's bedroom door, “Sweetheart, Carla and Grisha are here.” Zeke’s chest tightened. He glanced at the clock, somehow, hours had slipped by rather fast. Even though, Eren immediately perked up. “Mama’s back?” He immediately ran even if some drawings were still in hand,
When they reached the hallway, Carla was already stepping inside, brushing the wind from her skirt and smiling warmly as Grisha followed closely behind, “There you are,” she said when she saw them. “Did you two have fun?”
“Yeah!” Eren chirped immediately, “We played all day! Also made like a hundred drawings too! I made one of me and Zeke!” Zeke stood off to the side awkwardly, arms crossed, watching the scene quietly.
Carla then crouched down, wiping a smudge of crayon from Eren’s cheek, “Where's your jacket? It's a little cold outside, I wouldn't want you to catch a cold..”
“There!” Eren chirped pointing on a nearby chair where the jacket was, ironically it was one of the idems they used to make the fort made out of blankets and more. He then turned to Zeke, “Can I take this one home? I wanna show Mikasa, please?” Zeke nodded immediately, it was a rather cute drawing of the said girl, “Yeah, of course..”
Eren gave him a bright smile, then without thinking he ran back to him and wrapped his arms around Zeke’s in a quick, clumsy hug. “Bye bye! See you next time I'll miss you!”
After that Eren went to get his jacket and left the room to go outside where Grisha was talking with his parents...Carla, however, turned before leaving. “Zeke, really. Thank you, looks like he had a good time.” Zeke nodded as always, awkwardly fidgeting with the tips of his fingers. “Oh, it was nothing.. ”
After they left, Zeke tiredly walked back towards his bedroom. He immediately changed into something comfortable and climbed into the mattress of his bed with a sigh, he dragged one of the pillows close hugging it tight to his chest, and reached blindly for his plush, pulling it into the small remaining space between his arms.
The moment his head sank into the pillow, the tiredness hit him like a wave. Oh how good sleep feels.