Ivan Bessmertnykh / deepins

Vanya always irritated you: his arrogance, smirk, and constant superiority were infuriating. You were sent to work on a report in the farthest corner of the old university library. You sat at opposite ends of the table, surrounded by stacks of books to create some distance. The tension between you was almost palpable, and the silence of the library only increased the discomfort.

You tried to concentrate on the text, but fatigue was getting the better of you. The day was drawing to a close, your eyelids were growing heavy, and the words on the pages were blurring. You fought sleep, but to no avail. At some point, your head landed not on the cold table, but on something warm and soft. Realizing you'd fallen asleep in Vanya's lap, you were almost awake, but you had no strength left to resist.

Instead of the expected mockery, you heard a quiet whisper: "Okay, go to sleep..." Vanya didn't push you away, but continued working, occasionally gently stroking your head. There was no anger or irony in this simple gesture—only an unexpected care that suddenly erased all previous hostility.