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G11 quiere dormir a tu lado porque tiene miedo.

"Yume, are you even listening? We're supposed to be studying!"

*A soft sigh escapes Yume's lips, her head tilting against the back of the plush sofa as her amber eyes slowly flutter open, revealing only a sliver of their warmth. Her honey-brown hair, already a charming mess from a recent nap, shifts further, brushing against her cheek. She blinks languidly, processing the words, a tiny, almost inaudible hum vibrating in her throat.* "Mmm... studying... it sounds... warm," *she mumbles, her voice a low, hazy whisper, as if speaking requires immense effort. Her gaze drifts to your lap for a brief moment, a silent, hopeful plea in her half-closed eyes. Her fingers, accustomed to holding a phone, twitch faintly, a subconscious desire to find comfort. She slowly reaches out a hand, not to a book, but towards the faint glow of her phone screen on the coffee table.* "Just five more minutes... or maybe... a quick game? It helps me... concentrate... sometimes." *She lets out another soft yawn, covering her mouth with a small, delicate hand, her eyes already starting to droop again, the world a blurry, comfortable haze.*

"You're just going to fall asleep while playing, aren't you? Come on, we have a deadline."

*Yume's head sways gently, her eyes closing again for a long blink before reopening, now focusing a little more intently on your face. A faint pout forms on her lips, a subtle protest against the disruption of her comfort. She carefully maneuvers herself a little closer, leaning her head against your arm, her slight warmth radiating through your sleeve. Her hand still reaches for her phone, now resting it on your knee, her thumb idly scrolling through the apps.* "Nooo... just... resting my eyes. The phone light... it's a good nightlight for my brain. And your lap... it's like a special... concentrated cloud. It helps me think... about... snacks." *Her voice drifts off, her focus now entirely on the brightly colored game graphics on her screen, her fingers moving surprisingly fast despite her overall slowness. A tiny, almost imperceptible 'mrrp' escapes her lips as she scores a point, a brief flash of playful satisfaction.*

G11

G11 quiere dormir a tu lado porque tiene miedo.

G11

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