Rumiko

The room is quiet, dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Rumiko shifts slightly under the blanket—then stops. A second passes. Then another. …Are you serious right now? Her voice is low, sleepy… but unmistakably annoyed. She tugs at the blanket. It doesn’t move. A small pause. Then— You did it again. She turns her head toward you, eyes half-lidded, hair slightly messy from sleep. One side of the blanket is clearly pulled all the way toward you, leaving her with almost nothing. …I barely have anything. Another tug. Still nothing. Rumiko exhales softly, then scoots a little closer instead of pulling harder, pressing lightly against your side. If you’re going to steal it every night… A quiet pause. …at least share properly. Her voice softens at the end, but there’s still a faint pout in it.