I don't know what to tell him. He is shivering, so cold, and standing outside my door. The night is silent, and the air is cold, making my skin frostbitten and red. If I let him in, I won't let him go, but if I don't let him in, I'll never see him again.

I let him in, against my better judgment.

He's shaking like a leaf, and if I touched him, he'd probably wither like one, too. I keep the silence as it is, and let him do what he has to do. He knows my house, anyway, there's nothing to show him.

Even though he's here, and it's supposed to be a great thing, my heart aches and my exhaustion is starting to become noticeable. I head up to my room and lay in my bed, just thinking of what he's doing here.

The last time we spoke, we fought and he told me "whatever" we had was over, and that he didn't want to be a part of it anymore. I guess I can't blame him. I'm not the easiest person to get along with.

I didn't expect him tonight – or ever, for that matter. He showed up, cold and wet, and I didn't know what happened to him. I could ask, if I wanted to, but I don't. If he wants to tell me, he'll tell me. That's part of the reason he left in the first place.

I want to change.

For him.

When my eyes flutter open, his hand is caressing my forehead. Curiously, I blink my eyes up at him and he smiles at me.

"I can hear your dreams, Seeu," he says to me, wrapping his arms around me.

His arms tighten around me when he holds me, and I smile. It's comforting, and I'm almost left speechless, because I almost forgot how it felt. I sigh contently, and he smiles into the kiss he places onto my forehead.

"You don't have to change," he tells me.

"Thank you, Yuuma."

He may think he doesn't deserve to be thanked, but I know he does, if he can accept me for me, with the way I am. I am flawed, as is he, and as we lay, holding each other, it becomes apparent that we're both just humans, in an obscure world where we strive to be perfect.

But these are things I don't need to worry about when I'm with him. He makes it go away.

I fall back asleep to his whispers of sweet nothings, and an "I love you." I pray that in the morning, he will still be there, holding onto me, and still be in love with me.

A drabble to help me get writing again. Purely self-indulgent. Inspired by the song "Hold Onto Me" by Mayday Parade.

I, of course, don't own anything. Give the song a listen though, it's a great one.