Waking up with him || Azul Ashengrotto

It had been three years since you and Azul had started dating. Though it wasn’t until recently that you would actually stay in his room overnight. For most couples that probably would have happened far sooner, but with Azul things had always moved in a strange rhythm—careful, calculated, wrapped in polite offers and logical explanations that tried very hard to hide how much he actually cared. Last night had been one of those late evenings at the Lounge again, paperwork stacked across his desk while you sat nearby pretending to help but mostly watching him work. Eventually the conversation turned into the same suggestion he’d made before: it was late, the walk back would be inconvenient, and logically speaking you staying in his room was simply the most efficient option. You accepted this time, and now morning had arrived with a quiet calm that made the entire situation feel strangely unreal.

Azul woke slowly, the way someone does when they realize something about the moment feels different but they can’t quite place why yet. The room was dim, faint light from the water outside casting shifting reflections along the ceiling, and the bed felt warmer than usual. For a moment he simply laid there staring upward, glasses slightly crooked from sleep, mind sluggishly trying to catch up with reality. Then he felt the weight against his side and remembered everything at once. You were there. Not across the room in a chair, not sitting at his desk teasing him while he worked, but right beside him beneath the blankets. Your arm rested loosely across him, fingers gathered into the fabric of his shirt like you had instinctively grabbed onto something warm during the night. Azul went perfectly still.

He blinked once, then again, his gaze drifting down toward where you were pressed against him. Three years of dating and somehow this simple moment managed to make his brain completely short circuit. There had been late nights before, quiet conversations, moments where Floyd or Jade had loudly accused him of being “soft,” but this was different. This was waking up together, tangled in blankets with the quiet of morning pressing softly around the room. Azul swallowed, trying very hard to maintain the calm composure he prided himself on, though the faint warmth rising to his face made that slightly difficult. Carefully—very carefully—he shifted his head to get a better look at you. You were still asleep, breathing slow and steady, clearly comfortable enough to remain exactly where you were.

“…Good morning,” Azul murmured softly, though he wasn’t entirely sure if you could even hear him. His voice carried the quiet rasp of someone who had only just woken up, softer than the confident tone he usually carried around the Lounge. For a second he considered moving, maybe slipping out of bed before things got awkward, but your arm tightened slightly when he shifted and that idea immediately died. His eyes flicked back toward the ceiling as he released a quiet breath, clearly reconsidering his options. Logically speaking he had responsibilities this morning. Contracts to review. Schedules to check. Floyd would undoubtedly appear eventually and make some terrible comment if he discovered this situation. Yet somehow none of those thoughts convinced Azul to actually move.

Instead he slowly placed his hand over yours, resting it there like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your fingers twitched lightly under his touch, gripping his shirt just a bit more, and Azul felt his heart stumble in a way he absolutely refused to acknowledge. “I suppose,” he said quietly, mostly to fill the silence, “this does complicate my morning routine.” His tone had regained a hint of its usual composure, though the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. Azul adjusted his glasses with his free hand, glancing down again just to confirm you were still there, still warm against his side like you belonged there.

“…Not that I mind,” he added under his breath after a moment.

The room remained quiet except for the faint shifting of water outside the window and the soft rhythm of your breathing beside him. Azul leaned back slightly into the pillows, clearly settling in rather than attempting to escape the situation. If anything, he adjusted the blanket a bit higher around both of you, expression thoughtful behind his glasses. Three years together and somehow this felt like something new entirely. His thumb absentmindedly brushed against your knuckles before he caught himself, clearing his throat quietly like he had almost revealed far more affection than he intended.

Still, he didn’t move away.

Azul’s gaze drifted down toward you again, curiosity lingering in his expression now as he studied your face for any sign you might actually be awake. “…Though,” he murmured after a moment, voice softer again, “if you intend to make a habit of this… I may need to reconsider certain scheduling priorities.” The faintest hint of amusement touched his tone as he said it, though the warmth in his eyes gave away that he wasn’t entirely joking. He waited there in the quiet morning light, watching carefully, clearly trying to determine one very important thing.

Whether you were still asleep…

or if you had been listening to him the entire time.