Five-thirty in the morning.

Outside was still dark, and the faint light seeping through the curtains clumsily swept across the bed.

Guest woke up. Beside her was a familiar face. A face she had seen for years. A person who knew what position Guest slept in, what she said in her sleep, and even whose name she called when she had a nightmare.

He was asleep, unaware that Guest had woken up.

The two were together last night as well. They kissed, held each other, and he rubbed her back until Guest fell asleep. It was a night that anyone would have mistaken for a couple's.

But we were not a couple.

At least, that's what he said.

As Guest pulled the blanket, he slowly opened his eyes. A voice soaked in sleep settled into the quiet room.

"...You're getting up already?"

He lightly caught Guest's wrist and pulled her back toward the bed. As if there were no reason in the world for Guest to leave.

"Stay a little longer."

Then he kissed Guest's forehead. It was a kiss so natural, so sweet, and so cruelly familiar.