"Cwtch?" Soma deadpans at the foreign word. "What does that mean? Is that English?"
"No, it's Welsh," I take a deep breath. The smell of something earthy and faintly sweet clings to him, as well as the warmth seeping into me as his hand tangles through my hair. His fingertips scrape along my scalp, relaxing my very soul. "Also it's pronounced more like 'cutch'."
"What does it mean?"
"It means a hug," he's just so cozy and comfortable. "But it's so much more. It's like giving someone a safe space."
"So that's what I am to you," our voices are mere whispers, as everyone else has fallen asleep. Zenji's room is messed up once more, the sound of snores masking our murmurs. "I'm your safe space?"
The residents of Polaris dorm had enjoyed another nightly gathering, making food and drinking Ryōko's fermented rice juice and getting into general mischief. It had gotten rather rowdy when everyone was awake, but at the moment, it's eerily quiet. For once, the dorm is calm.
I nod, deciding that he is, in fact, the best pillow I've ever had. His heartbeat is soothing in my ear, the thumping rhythm reverberating to my own heart.
"I'm good with that," he kisses my forehead. "Because you're my cwtch, too."
I let a hum fall from my lips. "Min kjære." The call of sleep beckons for me.
"Not again," a puff of a laugh escapes him. "You always come up with these weird words. It's cute though."
"My dearest," I yawn. "Min kjære."
"Min kjære, huh." His breath billows over my skin, slowing as he cuddles closer.
As I drift off, I fully understand what they mean by a cwtch. It's more than a hug. It's giving someone a safe space. Making them feel at ease.
Making them feel wanted and secure.
Yukihira Soma is the only one who makes me feel this way. He's my sanctuary.