There was a light fluttering next to Sora’s ear. She was oblivious to it; she was breathing evenly, her chest rising and falling.
Aysen sat down next to her and watched Sora sleep. Her hair was jet black, and shone in the feeble moonlight that peeked through the ominous nimbus clouds. Her face was peaceful, and her eyes were closed; Sora’s eyelashes were black and thick. Yet, her skin was a soft, pale color.
She looked like a beautifully drawn portrait.
Sora turned in her sleep, and flinched at something only she could see. But soon, she had settled down again.
The night sky was like a giant blue petal with shining dew drops strewn all over it.
The temperature dropped further, and Aysen realized that it was dangerous for a human to sleep outside. He picked up her limp form carefully and slid into the house.

He laid her down on her bed, and squeezed her hand.
Much to his surprise, she squeezed back.
“Aysen…” she muttered, and continued sleeping.

He bent over and kissed her softly.

“Sweet dreams.”