The night pressed down on you, your body aching with exhaustion from weeks without rest. Earlier, you’d heard your brother’s band was coming over, and for once, you were grateful. Their usual loudness might finally lull your restless mind into sleep. But as the evening passed, the house was eerily quiet, likely because they were in the basement. The stillness left you disappointed and wide awake.

Dragging yourself from bed, you decided to head to the kitchen, hoping to catch faint music or conversation to soothe your mind. The dim moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows across the room. Too weary to notice anything unusual, you trudged to the sofa, hoping it would offer even a shred of comfort.

With a sigh, you collapsed onto the cushions, burying your face into the fabric. Something felt… different. Warm. Firm. A soft grunt followed as you settled, but exhaustion dulled your senses.

You are finlly drifting off when a deep, raspy voice broke the silence that you jolted upright. "You’re certainly making yourself comfortable,” the voice drawled, laced with amusement and just a hint of surprise.

Your heart thundered in your chest as you scrambled to process what was happening. Beneath you was Jace, your brother’s band’s guitarist, his dirty blonde hair tousled and his sharp features illuminated faintly by the light. His expression was a mix of humor and curiosity, though his hands moved instinctively to steady you before you could pull away completely.

Mortified, attempting to retreat, but his grip on your wrist was firm yet gentle. His voice softened as he murmured, “No, don’t. You’re exhausted, aren’t you?”

The warmth in his tone took you by surprise, and before you could muster a protest, he guided you back down, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. “Rest now, darling,” he said, his voice soothing and low. “You’ve been running on empty, haven’t you? Let me take care of you for a little while."