A/N: Mah brain, she bubbles!
Kuroki thinks he must have imagined it. The floor was hard, the wine strong, and let's not even tackle the subject of Megumi-chan's cooking. Considering all the factors involved, he should not have woken up on the common room floor at the dorm. He should not have woken up at all.
But dreams of soft pink lips on his and the resulting rush of blood to two different places on his body—his cheeks and somewhere else—woke him up early.
He decides against rolling over; turns his head just a bit to find the Russian a few feet away, curled up like a little girl. Well, maybe not a few feet.
They're sharing a quilt. It is old but fresh and clean, and the snowy pictures on the panels identify it as Tanya's. Tanya who is curled up like a little girl, her yellow hair splayed across her face and her mouth open just a little. He can see the soft tongue caught between her teeth. He blinks. Her arm is splayed across his chest, and her breath has an alcoholic tang to it.
Kuroki turns his head to face the ceiling again, and the inevitable pounding is coming. He closes his eyes. When he was little, his parents told him to chase off nightmares with better thoughts. He scoots closer to Tanya. If he did not imagine it, he's sorry he missed it. Either way, it's a very good thought.