Eight Sentence Sunday

I know, it's supposed to be six sentences, but I just couldn't break this excerpt lol. From a wip:

Sirien took comfort in the warmth and weight of Aldir against his side as they sat in the dim light of Sirien's corner lamp. Moonlight lit his curtains and cast blocks of silver across the carpet. He lowered his gaze and traced with his eyes the slight bump of Aldir's wrist bone, the slope of his hand, the line of his fingers. Aldir's fingers were slightly thicker than his, his pinky crooked from when Sirien had broken it once.

Much later, Aldir surprised Sirien by shifting against him, arms lifting in a languid stretch. He'd thought Aldir had fallen asleep. Aldir stood, his knuckles dragging down the side of Sirien's thigh, and moved to pull his shoes on. Sirien offered him his sofa, but Aldir quietly refused, something like disappointment in the cast of his eyes.

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