UHH.
-has no idea why this has been following me-

Just something sweet and snuggly for you guys, cause you're awesome.
Hope you likes~

-Man doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Hoshino Katsura~ She's more awesome than me, so I lose. :C

The small boy gave a deeply contented sigh in his sleep, the thick, fluffy blanket shifting around his slim form. His white hair was splayed out on the pillow, a soft smile curving his pink lips. He snuggled down in the blankets a bit more before relaxing and slipping into a deeper sleep.

The room was dead silent for a long few moments before a second, quieter sigh sounded from the other side of the room. A thin vein of moonlight fell over the man's face, showing half-lidded amber eyes and ash grey skin. He stood, walking over to the sleeping boy. The moonlight filtering through the window revealed the man further now. He looked as if he was in his early twenties, a dusty brown trench coat draped over his thin frame. The coal black hair falling about his face was somewhat wavy, seven crosses marking their way over his partially exposed forehead.

Reaching out, the man brushed some of the snowy hair from the boy's face, exposing the soft, creme colored skin. A single gloved finger traced the blood red scar over the closed eye, the man's amber eyes slimming and a small frown twisting at his dark lips. He knew the scar didn't hurt the boy now, five years after he'd gotten it, but it was still troubling to see the pale face marred by the streak of crimson running right from his hairline to his jaw.

The boy shifted in his sleep, nuzzling his face into the pillow under his head and bringing the amber-eyes man a smile. He withdrew his hand and moved to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping with his light weight. One gloved hand reached out, stroking the snowy hair in a gentle, loving gesture.

The man leaned over after a few minutes, pecking the forehead of the sleeping boy softly.

"Good night, nephew. Sleep well."

Allen Walker woke to a stream of sunlight falling over his silver eyes. He blinked and sat up, a drowsy look still present on his face. The white hair that he tried so hard to keep neat was now tangled, making him look all the more tired. He yawned once before getting up and walking over to the dresser on the other side of his room, picking up an old hairbrush and starting to smooth his ragged hair.

The ever-present figure of his Noah was there, that ever-present grin on his ever-present shadowy face. Allen frowned at the sight, pulling the brush through his messy hair. He had already considered not walking by anything reflective, but that seemed near impossible. So, he just chose to ignore the intruder. He wanted nothing to do with the Noah.

He never did find out that the one he hated so much would sit next to him at night, calm him from his nightmares, make sure he was warm.

He had no clue that the Noah, his foster father's little brother, cared for him so much.