He clicked the lamp on his side of the bed on, and seemed to have read the title for the first time then. "Poems?"
"My       mom used to read to me every night, way past the normal age that   you     stop doing that stuff I'm pretty sure. And whenever I got    nightmares,  or   couldn't sleep, I'd climb into her bed. It didn't    matter if I woke  her   up at two in the morning, she'd grab one of the    five or ten books  that   were always on her nightstand and start    reading to me until I  fell   asleep," you explained, readjusting your    pillow under your head.  "That   was one of my favorites. I figured it    was worth a shot."
Jisung    opened the book  to   the first poem and began reading. His voice was   soft  and steady,   deep  and soothing. Despite your want to keep watching   him  and the   focused  look on his face as he read, his dark eyes   following the    words on  the page, your own eventually fluttered shut   against your    will.
─── * :✧˚ ·♡.
When       you woke up, Jisung was no longer in your room. The book was   resting    on  the nightstand on that side of the bed, and the lamp was   off.  Upon    entering the kitchen, you saw Jisung standing at the   humming   microwave.   He perked up when you walked in, despite the   confused look   on your  face.
"Good morning!" He said brightly, then gestured to the microwave. "I'm making you hot chocolate. I heard the shower."
"And       if my mother had walked in and saw the hot chocolate making   itself?"     You asked dryly, still rubbing sleep out of your eyes. Your   shower     didn't do much to wake you up this morning.
Jisung visually deflated, looking around guiltily. "Oh. Right..."
"It's       sweet, Jisung, thank you," you added with a smile, watching his       shoulders relax. "You're very sweet. I just don't want to give my mom  a      heart attack."
"Of course." He was smiling again too. "Sorry."
─── * :✧˚ ·♡.
Sitting       halfway down the stairs with Jisung, you stared blankly at the   front     door. Dinner had been difficult for your mom tonight, and with   no     Nayoung at that meal, you had to do it all on your own. She was   asleep     now, and you held your head in your hands. Jisung was  quietly  sitting     beside you, resting his elbows on his knees as his  laced  and unlaced   his   fingers in front of him. This was probably  one of  the best parts   about   having Jisung around. Despite being  practically  omnipresent at   this   point, if you didn't want to talk,  he didn't  talk. If you  wanted  to   chat, he would talk to you about  anything,  but if you  wanted utter    silence, he would let you sit in  utter  silence—he just  wouldn't let  you   do it alone.
You felt nearly suffocated by the house in that moment, but you couldn't leave your mom alone.
"Can you go outside?" You lifted your head to ask Jisung.
"Not very far," he answered as if you were asking any other piece of trivia about him and his predicament.
"The porch swing?"
"Yes, I can go there."
"Do you want to? Now? With me?"
He chuckled softly. "When have I ever told you no?"
It       was a warm night, which you were glad for as you were only in your       sleep shorts and a t-shirt as you sat on the wooden porch swing  with      Jisung. Holding the chain next to your head with one hand, you   peered     out at the nighttime around you, glad to be out of those   walls  finally.
"Pretty moon," you commented, looking up at the silver half-moon above you.
"Mhm," Jisung hummed his agreement.