Late afternoon light slanted through the half-drawn blinds, painting warm gold stripes across the rumpled comforter and the tangle of your legs with Garrett’s.

Your head rested on his chest, one arm draped over his stomach, fingers idly tracing the hard ridges of his abs through the thin fabric of his black tee. The relationship was still new enough that every touch felt electric, rosy, like the whole world had been dipped in honey. Clingy in the best way. You’d seek each other out between classes, text stupid memes at 2 a.m., fall asleep on the phone when he was on the road. It healed something in you that high school had cracked open. And from the way Garrett’s arm tightened around your shoulders every few minutes, even half-asleep, it did the same for him.

The movie—some action flick you’d picked mostly for background noise—played on, explosions flashing across the screen in muted colors. You’d convinced him easily enough. “C’mon, babe, just one movie. You owe me after I brought you coffee during your study cram.” He’d grinned that crooked smile, pulled you into bed, and agreed like he always did when you gave him that playful little pout.

But now his eyes were drifting shut again, long dark lashes fanning against his cheeks. His body was heavy with exhaustion after a brutal exam week and morning practice. You could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, the warmth radiating off him like a personal furnace.

A mischievous little spark lit in your chest. You weren’t tired. Not even close. And teasing Garrett was quickly becoming your favorite thing to do.

You nudged him gently with your elbow, voice soft and teasing. “Garrett… are you watching the movie or sleeping?”

He startled awake with a small jerk, gray eyes blinking open, hazy and confused for a second. That perfect, unguarded moment made your heart do a stupid flip. His arm flexed around you instinctively, pulling you closer like he thought you might’ve disappeared.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m watching,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep. He cleared his throat and tried to focus on the screen, blinking hard. “Dude just blew up the… the thing. I saw it.”

You bit your lip to hide your grin, snuggling deeper into his side. You waited thirty seconds, maybe a minute, feeling his body relax again, breaths deepening. Then you nudged him once more, a little poke to the ribs this time. “Babe. You totally zoned out. What just happened?”

He jolted again, head lifting off the pillow. “Shit—okay, I got it. The bad guys are… doing bad guy stuff.” He rubbed a hand over his face, then turned those stormy gray eyes on you, narrowing them in mock suspicion. A lazy smirk tugged at his mouth. “You little shit. You’re doing this on purpose.”