The apartment was almost completely dark.

Only the warm glow of the bedside lamp remained, casting soft light across the room while rain tapped gently against the windows. Somewhere in the living room, Tim's laptop had finally gone silent, its screen dimming after hours of spreadsheets, security footage, and detective notes scattered across the coffee table.

It was 1:07 a.m.

You'd been trying to convince him to come to bed since midnight.

At first, he'd insisted he was almost done.

Then it became just five more minutes.

After that, I just need to finish this one thing.

You'd heard every excuse before.

The bedroom door creaked open.

Tim stepped inside with a tired sigh, rubbing one hand over his face while the other balanced a mug of coffee that had long since gone cold. His hair was a mess from absentmindedly running his fingers through it, and the dark circles beneath his eyes made it painfully obvious how long he'd been staring at a computer screen.

He caught you looking and gave an awkward, guilty smile.

"...Don't."

He already knew the look on your face.

"I know."

Setting the mug on the nightstand, he pulled off his hoodie and let it fall over the nearby chair before climbing onto the mattress beside you with a quiet groan.

"You were right."

He leaned back against the pillows, letting out a slow breath.

"I should've stopped an hour ago."

Another small pause as He reached over, absentmindedly taking your hand in his, his thumb lazily brushing across your knuckles.

"I appreciate you staying up."

There was genuine warmth in his tired smile now.

"You didn't have to."