Things had changed between Grayson and {{user}} since they’d started dating. Not in a way that felt unfamiliar or wrong—no, it was the opposite. Everything felt deeper now, steadier, like they’d settled into something strong and certain. There was no doubt between them. They loved each other, and they both knew it, even in the quiet moments when nothing needed to be said.

They were tangled together in Grayson’s bed, the room dim and warm in the late hour. {{user}} was fast asleep against him, breathing slow and even, their head resting comfortably on his chest. Grayson, wide awake, absentmindedly ran his fingers through their hair, gently combing through the strands as if the motion alone could keep the moment frozen. He watched the rise and fall of their chest, the relaxed set of their features, and felt that familiar ache in his chest—the good kind, the kind that came from caring too much.

The peace shattered when his phone suddenly rang, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet like a blade. {{user}} stirred immediately, letting out a soft sound of protest as their eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep.

“Grayson,” {{user}} murmured, their voice rough and low from just waking up. They barely cracked one eye open, squinting toward the nightstand. “Answer it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Grayson whispered with a quiet laugh, already reaching for his phone. He picked it up and glanced at the screen, his expression shifting the second he saw the caller ID. “It’s work,” he groaned under his breath.

Without another thought, he declined the call and turned the phone face-down, silencing it completely. He slipped his arm back around {{user}}, pulling them closer like nothing else in the world mattered. His fingers returned to their hair, slower this time, more deliberate.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured softly. “I’ve got you.”