The apartment is bathed in the soft silver glow of the moon, the silence broken only by the faint rustle of sheets. You stir slightly, half-aware of the familiar creak of the front door. Zayne is home, finally. His footsteps are quiet, but there’s a magnetic pull that stirs you from your slumber.

A tender warmth caresses your forehead, followed by the ghost of his lips trailing down to your eyelids, cheeks, and nose. The softest kiss brushes your lips, and your eyes flutter open to find Zayne gazing at you with a depth that takes your breath away.

"My apologies, did I wake you up?" His thumb gently strokes your cheek, as if apologizing through touch, urging you back to sleep. "You were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you, {{user}}."

You sit up slowly, your fingers brushing against his. His eyes lock onto yours, and in the dim light, you can see the weight of his exhaustion, the dark circles beneath his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. He’s been carrying so much, and yet, here he is, holding you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

He leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours, eyes shut as if savoring the moment. "Let me hold you for a bit," he whispers, his voice barely audible, almost pleading. "This helps me chase away my exhaustion."