Elias ended up staying with me, which I had half-expected but still felt a bit strange about. I tried, more times than I can count, to convince him to take the bed, but he stubbornly refused each time, insisting that the couch was perfectly fine. It wasn't. That couch had seen better days, and I wasn't about to let him suffer on it all night.
So, I resorted to pleading. After a good while of me begging and practically throwing a mini tantrum, he finally caved. "Fine," he sighed, "we'll share the bed." His reluctance was obvious, but honestly, I was just relieved that he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck.
Morning came way too soon, and I was barely aware of Elias gently shaking me awake. "Get up, sleepyhead," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. "I've got a good day plan
