The room was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioner blending with the rhythm of Felix’s breathing. He’d been asleep for only a couple of hours, tangled loosely in the blankets, one arm draped over you like it always was. The concert had drained him, but he’d fallen asleep easily, warm, safe, peaceful.

Until the bed shifted.

At first, it was subtle, the mattress dipping slightly, the sheets rustling. Then, the faint sound of your footsteps against the floor. Felix’s eyes blinked open, adjusting slowly to the dim glow of the nightlight by the window. You were hunched over slightly, moving carefully, your hand pressed to your stomach.

He frowned instantly, the haze of sleep clearing as concern replaced it.

Felix: “Hey… where are you going?” he asked, his voice rough and low, heavy with sleep but laced with worry.