A door creaks softly, and the bitingly cold snowy wind pushes an exhausted young man into his apartment. He has to turn and shove the door closed, for the wind thrusting relentlessly at the door makes it hard to close.

He lets out a weary sigh and pulls down his hood. His greenish-black hair glints faintly in the glare from the streetlights that shine through the window. He takes off his coat and scarf and, after hanging them rather messily on the coat-hook, kicks off his shoes.

The dark-haired young man glances at the clock and groans. 1:36. And he has to get up at 4:30 and get ready so he won't be late for work. He yawns and heads for his room, eyelids drooping over his forest-green eyes.

As he walks down the hallway, he becomes aware of a small noise coming from his room. He frowns tiredly and walks a little faster. He stops in the doorway, and only then does he recognize the sounds for what they are.

A small young woman, a few years his junior, is laying on his bed. She has long hair of a soft reddish hue, which is loose and spread all around her. Her sapphire blue eyes shine with tears in the dim light, and she clutches one of his pillows. She's shivering, probably because she's only dressed in a short nightgown. She sits up when she sees him, eyes widening. He had been hearing the girl's sobs.

"Ahiru?" the young man whispers. "Ahiru, are you–"

He's cut off by the feeling of something soft but heavy slamming into his chest. He stumbles backwards and falls to the ground. Then he's feeling dizzy and looking into sky-blue eyes. She must have leaped off the bed and tackled him.

"Fakir," the young woman whimpers. "Fakir, I had a nightmare... and when I woke up, you weren't there. You weren't beside me."

"I'm sorry, Ahiru, I didn't know," he murmurs, stroking his wife's hair. "If I could've been home tonight, I would've."

She relaxes and climbs off of him. He yawns widely and holds out his hands.

Ahiru giggles and helps him stand. "Fakir, I wish you didn't have to work so late," she says softly. "I wish you could be home with me more often."

"Tomorrow's my last day of work, remember?" Fakir reminds her, hugging her close. "Then I'll be off for Christmas, and we can have the tree up and ready before Tuesday."

"Oh, right. I forgot." Her voice is muffled, as her face is pushed into his chest.

He ruffles her hair and rolls his eyes, but he can't keep a tired grin off his face at her forgetfulness. "Moron. Come on, let's just go to bed."

Ahiru looks up at him and takes his hand, that sweet smile spread across her lips. "Okay," she replies softly and pulls him onto the bed.

Fakir blushes. "Idiot, I need to change first!" he snaps, getting back up. "I can't very well sleep in a dress shirt, pants, and a belt, now can I?"

"You can sleep in pants," she points out innocently, sitting up and watching him get his pajamas out.

He glares. "I meant dress pants."

"Oh." She looks crestfallen.

He quickly changes in the bathroom and comes back out. He falls into bed with an exaggerated sigh, making his wife laugh softly.

"Good night," she says dreamily, turning towards him.

He steals a quick kiss from her lips. "Good night."

A few moments of silence pass before Ahiru quietly adds, "But it's really more like early morning anyways."

"Shut up and go to sleep, moron."