Gleb Kalyuzhny

“Gleb...” you whispered quietly, your voice barely audible in the silence of the night, more of a sigh than a word, hoping that he was still awake.
There was a dull, slightly hoarse sound, typical only for him when he was just waking up.
"Mm?" the brown-haired man answered sleepily, and you felt his hand on your waist tighten its grip, and then his thumb continued its measured rhythm. He wasn't sleeping.
You plucked up your courage, knowing it might sound completely crazy.
"Let's go for a walk? I can't sleep at all..." You yawned sweetly, and it seemed to you that the yawn sounded too loud in this silence. The idea of ​​going outside at such a late hour suddenly seemed like the only escape from your obsessive thoughts.
Gleb froze for a moment.
"Let's go for a walk? Are we going outside at one in the morning?" His voice held a hint of surprise, mixed with his usual, slightly mocking tenderness. His hand moved to your back, stroking your spine with light, soothing movements.
“Well... Yes...” you said hesitantly, feeling a small spark of hope growing inside you.
After another moment of silence that seemed endless to you, you felt him move again, his body tensing slightly.
"Well, if that's what you want, let's go." These words were spoken without a hint of irritation or weariness.
You felt a surge of warmth and tenderness. He rose from the bed, and you heard the soft rustle of the blanket. In the dim light, his figure loomed next to you, then the familiar sounds came: the rustling of clothes, the soft click of a clasp. He began to dress.