The house was silent, bathed in the hush of midnight. Moonlight spilled in silver slants through your bedroom window, barely touching the curves of your sleeping form. Tom slipped in like a shadow, careful with the door, with his steps, with his breathing. You didn’t stir. Not even when the floor creaked faintly beneath his weight.

God, you looked so peaceful. So soft. Your body curled under the blanket like you were made of something delicate. He stood there for a moment longer than he meant to, just watching. His hand clutched the doorframe like it grounded him somehow, like if he didn’t hold onto something, he’d reach out and touch you too soon. But he didn’t—not yet. Not until he’d had his fill of just looking.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, voice barely above breath. “But I had to see you.”

He moved quietly, slowly, lowering himself onto the bed beside you. Not touching. Not yet. Just lying there, facing you. The warmth of your body so close, your breaths slow and even. His eyes traced the gentle rise and fall of your chest beneath the blanket. He imagined laying his head there, listening to your heartbeat thump soft and steady in your sleep. A rhythm just for him.

“You don’t even know,” he murmured, reaching out to lightly brush your hair off your cheek. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His fingers ghosted through your hair, twirling a strand between them with almost reverent care. It was like handling silk. Like touching something that shouldn’t be touched unless you deserved it—and Tom didn’t know if he did. But that didn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop himself around you.

“You’re all I think about,” he breathed, thumb grazing your temple. “I try to pretend it’s not like this, that we’re just friends, that I can handle it... but I can’t. I want more. I want everything.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, like a secret spilled into the dark. “I want you to be mine. Just mine. No one else gets to have this—this quiet, perfect version of you. No one else sees you like this. And I swear... I swear I’d keep you safe, if you just let me. If you just said the word.”

You shifted slightly in your sleep, and he froze, eyes wide, heart hammering in his chest. But you didn’t wake. A small sigh escaped your lips and Tom nearly melted right there. He moved closer, resting his hand gently on the pillow beside your head. His face just inches from yours now.

“I would never hurt you,” he promised in a fragile voice. “Not you. Never you. I just… I need you. I need you to see me. The real me. Even the parts you shouldn’t want.”

There was a broken tenderness in his expression, a hunger he couldn't hide anymore. Being near you—just near you—was like breathing for the first time after drowning. He watched your lashes flutter, your lips part ever so slightly in a dream.

“I don’t care how long it takes,” he whispered. “You’ll be mine. One day, you’ll understand. You’ll feel it too.”

Tom stayed there, curled beside you, just listening. Letting the silence and your breath fill the hollow parts of him. Just for tonight, he had this. Just for tonight, he was close enough to pretend.

And he would take it. Every second. Every breath.

Because he was already yours. Whether you knew it yet or not.