When Zhang Wang blinked away the heavy drowsiness, it was yet morning.
Though it was dark, he felt a veil of warmth around him that lulled into a sense of lazy safety, a reminder that restful sleep was just around the corner.
But he was awake.
Zhang Wang, on his back, rolled over to his side. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could make out the shape of Yu Yanlin's body next to him, radiating a sense of comfort. He hummed absently and nuzzled closer, his face brushing on a muscular arm. It was quite warm and in a sleep haze, Zhang Wang decided that it was a suitable pillow and wrapped his arms around it and pulled it closer.
But his sleep-addled stupor did not last for long. Even though Zhang Wang was relaxed and trying to worm his consciousness back into the sweet cradle of dreams such a thing did not happen. Instead, his thoughts grew sharper and no matter how hard he tried, he realized that he was waking up and becoming restless.
