It's one of those nights when you wake up in the middle of the night in the darkness of your room. Nothing can be make up by your eyes but pitch black. Your hands feel weak to be closed. There's empty feeling inside your chest that you can't describe. Then your heart starts to hurt, starts to beat softly, but the impact of each pounding hurts your insides and you can't breathe. 

Why are you feeling that way?

Everything's fine that day. It's the usual routine of school, work, and home. It's all fine. You're laughing with your friends earlier that day and nothing upsetting has happened at work.

You can't remember what you've dreamed about, but you're certain it's not a nightmare.

It's all fine.

Yet tears brim in your eyes, drops sliding down your cheeks one after another. You're suffocating and it hurts but you have no clue why. You've curled your legs on your chest, sobbing on your knees as quietly as possible. 

Why do you feel so depressed? 

Everything's fine. 

The door creaks open, the light from the hall peeking through the space. 

"Y/N?" someone calls. 

You stop, freezing in your spot. You gulp the cry that climbs up your throat, rubbing your eyes to wipe your tears with your sleeve. 

"I'm sorry," you try to sound normal, but it's obvious that your voice is rough from crying and your nose stuffed. "Did I wake you up?"

Footsteps go inside. The door closes and the dark covers the room again. The mattress dip on a new weight. Then a hand brushes on your back and an arm wrapping on your legs, your body pull to the side and head falling on a strong chest. It feels warm, the arms around you, and the even breaths on top of your head. You let yourself succumb in the comfort and continue to cry quietly, fist gripping on his shirt. Why does it hurt?

He's hushing you, hand rubbing your back up and down and the other arm squeezing your body tighter. "It's okay." 

With his consent, you cry a little harder, let the noise rips from your throat and more tears drenching the fabric of his shirt. 

Comforting shushes, soft kisses, soothing hums, and warm hugs let the time run its course. The night grows older, quieter, better. 

You've grown tired of crying. The two of you have lied down on your backs, your head on his chest, legs entangled under the sheets, and his fingers playing with the strands of your hair. Your eyelids are weighted, too heavy to be opened. Sleep is getting the best of you once more. 

Your chest feels lighter now.

Thanks to him who have stayed by your side and reminded you that you are loved. 

Words aren't exchanged. No nonstop questions of "are you okay?", "what's wrong?", "what happened?". Just him whispering reassurance and let you cry without worries of troubling anyone. Just his presence there, warmth sent to you, and unspoken love delivered without the need to see or hear it.

You feel numb, tired and sleepy to move a single muscle. But you lift your hand and blindly reaches up. You want to let him know that you're grateful that he's there. Your fingertips brushes on warm cheek, scratches it softly, then let it rest there. You feel his smile stretch on his face. His hand reaches up to take yours, locks his fingers in the spaces of yours with a gentle squeeze, and takes it to his lips for a long loving kiss. 

Eyes closed, you smile. The heaviness in your heart is now replaced by hard thumps, warm and solid, and all that beats to remind that you love him back. 

His breathing is steady, his heartbeat fast but calm, and one last sigh on your hair, lulls you back to a peaceful slumber. 

Everything's fine.