It’s just after midnight when you wake up again, only this time your head is pounding. With a quiet groan, you reach over to Drew’s side, expecting him to have come to bed already, he’d said over two hours ago that he’d just quickly go over some scripts.

Swinging your legs out of bed, you pad out of the bedroom and into Drew’s office, finding him sitting at his desk with only the small lamp on. When he hears you step in, he looks up, his lips immediately curving into a small smile.

“Hey, baby. Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a few,” he says, voice soft.

You come closer, though, and when he sees your expression, his face shifts to concern. He turns to you in his swivel chair.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reaching out to pull you closer by the hips.

You climb onto his lap and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your legs on either side of his thighs.

“My head hurts. Like, really bad,” you say, your voice muffled against his skin.

He sighs and rubs your back. “Alright, come on,” he says, switching off the desk lamp. The only light left in the room is the moon outside and the faint glow from the bedroom down the hall.

He presses a gentle kiss to your temple before lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms looped around his neck, and one of his arms rests under your thighs to keep you secure.

When you reach the bedroom, he lays you down gently. “I’ll be right back,” he says, disappearing into the bathroom. A moment later, he returns with a wet cloth.

“It’s going to be cold for a moment,” he murmurs, laying it on your forehead to soothe your headache.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He strips off his shirt and pants, leaving them on the floor without bothering to put them away, and climbs into bed in just his boxers. Pulling the covers over both of you, he draws you close, your legs tangled together, your head resting on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, and yours draped over his waist.

“Sleep. I’m here now,” he murmurs.