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Isami wakes up with a crick in his neck and his left arm tangled in the blanket at an uncomfortable angle. He groans, frees his hand, and attempts to roll onto his back. It takes his brain a few seconds to catch up. Right. Smith’s room.
The bed is too small. A standard-issue single bed would be too small for two people let alone three, but after dinner Lulu declared the three of them are going to sleep together and that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Instead of arguing with her Smith just threw Isami an apologetic look, with a lopsided half-smile and his—green—eyes sparkling. After gaining Smith’s approval, Lulu glared at Isami with a pout, as if she was daring him to turn them down.
There were so many things Isami needed to talk about with Smith, and even with Lulu, he wouldn’t even know how to start unpack the whole coming back to life stuff, but Isami was exhausted. He suspected he would be able to fall asleep standing up at that point so he just shrugged. Lulu cheered and hugged him, and Smith smiled with such a dopey expression Isami snorted into Lulu’s hair.
There was no time for awkwardness or second guessing oneself because Lulu just pulled them to the lower bunk without a care about things like clothes or personal space or even showers before bed. Cramped into such a tight place they ended up with Smith sandwiched between them. They fell asleep like that: Lulu hugging Smith and Smith sneaking an arm around Isami.
Back pressed to the wall, it doesn’t take Isami long to give up on getting up, and he lies down next to Smith again. Neither Smith nor Lulu have stirred, they’re both fast asleep. Isami watches Smith’s chest rise and fall to the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. He’s alive.
Isami reaches out and lays a hand on Smith’s chest, right above his heart.
He’s alive.
Isami’s gaze flicks to Smith’s face, but the man doesn’t stir, just sleeps on, undisturbed. Come morning Isami would deny it, but here, in the middle of the night in the darkness of Smith’s room, he doesn’t resist the urge. He scoots closer and lays his head on Smith’s chest.
Smith’s heart is a steady thud-thud-thud in his ears.
He’s alive.
Isami’s world narrows down to the sound of Smith’s heartbeat and the warmth of his body. Every beat reverberates through Isami’s body, slow but even. Unconsciously, Isami’s breathing starts to match Smith’s. Four, five beats and Smith’s chest rises, three, four beats and Isami exhales along with him.
Before long, sleep claims Isami, too.
(A few hours later he wakes in the same position, with Smith and Lulu having a conversation, not as quietly as they probably thought.
All his embarrassment fades when Lewis wishes him good morning with an unguarded, happy smile.)