The couch wasn't comfortable.
Muzaka shifted onto his right side, throwing his arm over his eyes. It was very late, a few hours shy of dawn, and he had yet to get a wink of sleep. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to will himself to sleep.
….
It didn't work.
He squeezed his eyes shut and changed position again.
Why wasn't this couch comfortable? Why would Frankenstein buy such an uncomfortable couch? Or did Frankenstein deliberately switch the couches up just so he wouldn't be comfortable? Muzaka wouldn't put it past him to do something like that. He hadn't forgotten that exploding drink.
Not that he could blame Frankenstein for his hostility.
Raizel…
He shifted again. And again.
Sleep seemed beyond his reach. He wouldn't be able to sleep unless he was comfortable.
As he struggled to find sleep, the slight rustling of clothes caught his attention, the sound so faint even he could barely hear it. A familiar presence appeared next to him, and Muzaka smiled ever so slightly as a wave of nostalgia washed over him.
He remembered Raizel's old mansion. That old room that Raizel could always be found in. He remembered all the times he had showed up at Raizel's house and thrown himself onto one of those couches. Sometimes the two of them would go days without talking. Sometimes he'd tell Raizel stories of the human world. Raizel always listened.
Everything had seemed so complicated to him back then, he thought as his smile turned a little bitter. But looking back on it now, back then, it was only when he was with Raizel that he felt, well, comfortable.
He opened his eyes and stared up at Raizel, his smile becoming more genuine as he noticed Raizel's concerned-filled expression. After everything he'd done, Raizel still felt nothing but compassion towards him.
He sat up, allowing Raizel to sit on the edge of the couch. Maybe he could spend the time until morning asking Raizel about his time among humans.
Then Raizel looked at him and daintily patted his own upper leg.
Muzaka cocked his head a little, but his smile didn't leave. He knew what Raizel was trying to convey. He didn't know if it would work, but this was the first time Raizel had ever requested anything from him. And he did not want to refuse Raizel anything.
So Muzaka laid his head down on Raizel's lap, and soon felt a feather-light touch on his hair. He closed his eyes, and yawned. So many things had changed between them. They had changed.
And yet, he was comfortable.