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[Midousuji jumps a little when he feels Aerith settle against him, entire body going (even more, somehow) rigid and tense.] I—! D-don’t be stupid; I meant right now! Gross! Gross. If you’re falling asleep, of course you aren’t going anywhere.

[it’s likely that he means indefinitely as well as “right now,” having had the gumption to say it at all, though. maybe Aerith knows better by now than to take Midousuji for his word. Midousuji, however…]

…Just… if you f-fell asleep, I wouldn’t just leave you up here.

[he’s a little too dense to anything other than take her too literally and at face value, though he should know better by now. those cues are a little harder to parse when he gets all shaken up by the things that she says, and the weird feelings those incur in him, more startling than anything Aerith can really do herself, honestly, even if she’s responsible for inspiring those feelings in the first place.

the alcohol probably doesn’t help his social fluency much, either.

it does, however, help him to relax; she can likely feel it. soft slopes return to the holding of his posture, instead of all rigid and hard like a bunch of metal frames. he lets go of a slow, shaky breath through his nose, and his heart races as he takes the canteen. after placing it by his side, his hands fidget uselessly, twisting as they curl into fists, flexing as they uncurl, repeating the motion over and over. like he’s antsy to let go of some kind of weird energy he’s being charged with (which he certainly is). he stares out into the darkness, at nothing in particular.

his mind swimming less coherently than usual, but more fluidly, Midousuji remembers nights spent with his family in Kyoto, as a child. the weather isn’t too different. a little less humid. distantly, finally less trapped in his own head and body, Midousuji becomes aware of the merry, distant chirring of crickets.

his eyes are wide, and encountering that familiar feeling from that memory—beneath his embarrassment and shock and fear—Midousuji realizes he’s experiencing it now. usually, he just remembers the feeling—but somehow, he realizes it’s actually happening again.

baffled, Midousuji’s head tilts.

how gross. why is he like this?? he’s even more gross than Sakamichi. Or Ishigaki. maybe not Aerith, though. his voice comes out in a slow, quiet drawl, partially because of the alcohol, but because he’s sort of spacing out, stuck on that realization. distracted.]

Yeah… Sleep as long as you need…