He was stupid. Completely and utterly. What had brought it all down? His own fear of commitment. He convinced himself that he wasn't ready for a real relationship as though his ex wasn't the best damn thing that had ever happened to him. He'd gone from peaceful nights with him curled up in his arms, watching the steady rise and fall of his breath, to hardly being able to get to sleep at all. Every night seemed to stretch on for an eternity, with a palpable sense that a warmth was so clearly missing from beside him in the bed.

Dewdrop couldn't even claim that it had been for his ex's own good. Their connection had been perfectly healthy, it had just developed so fast that it frightened him. Of course, instead of confronting those feelings, he shoved them down and convinced himself that they didn't exist at all - muttered some half-assed excuse about not feeling a romantic bond as if he didn't look at him like he held up the stars themselves.

Tonight was particularly bad. It was nearing midnight and he'd done nothing but toss, turn and sigh as if the universe had cursed him. And it was all his own doing. If he'd just sat down and did some bare bones thinking about what he was feeling, they'd have found a solution, and he'd still have his ex dozing peacefully at his side. He'd still have his partner.

He couldn't take it anymore. The fire ghoul threw his legs over the side of his bed, getting to his feet. He tugged a shirt on, something light and baggy, and a pair of shorts. He didn't want to scare his ex off, even if he was on his way to his room to be utterly unfair. How were they supposed to get over one another if he went pawing at his door the moment he couldn't handle being alone anymore.

He knocked. Hard, abrupt, much like the weight in his chest. "It's me," he said, pushing the door open without waiting for a response. He was going to chicken out if he waited any longer. "I was wondering if you wanted to cuddle. You know, right now. Just in silence. I don't want to talk about it."

Dewdrop braced himself for the rejection. It was what he deserved. The sheets obscured his ex's face, but judging by the strained little breaths and the way his tail was flicking restlessly, his former boyfriend wasn't sleeping well either. Satan below, he was such a dick. He cursed himself in his head for the nth time. Letting something ideal slip through his claws, and now running to them after realising he was wrong. Doubt crept into his tone as he spoke again, a little wary. "Or I can go, there's no pressure or anything."