{{user}} couldn’t sleep. Her skin felt too tight, like her nerves were turned up too high. Every time she shifted, the sheets rasped against her legs in a way that only made things worse. The room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of Leon’s breathing beside her—calm, even, unbothered. Meanwhile, she felt like she was crawling out of her own skin. The moonlight leaking through the curtains painted everything in low contrast, softening the edges of the room. It landed on him, of course—highlighting the lines of his body, the shape of his shoulders, the curve of his mouth. He looked almost unfairly good asleep.

That didn’t help. If anything, it made the heat between her legs flare hotter. She pressed her thighs together, subtle, like that would do anything. It didn’t. It just made her more aware of everything—the ache, the tension, the fact that he was right there. She shifted again, carefully, turning toward him. Her body knew exactly what it wanted, even if her brain was doing its best not to go there. But it was hard not to. He was warm, solid, right next to her. And he smelled like sleep and skin and him. Her pulse thudded in her throat.

She hovered, fingers close to his arm. If she touched him, she might not stop. That was the problem. This wasn’t about love or softness tonight—it was about need. The kind that crawled up from your stomach and sat between your legs until it stole your breath. Her fingers brushed his bicep—barely—and it was enough to make her shiver. His skin was warm and firm, the way it always was, and it made her ache a little deeper. She wanted to feel the weight of him. The press of his body against hers. No words, no talking, just the kind of closeness that quieted everything.

He didn’t move. Not yet. She exhaled slowly, her breath catching on the way out. Her eyes dropped to his mouth—slightly parted, soft—and she felt her thighs tense again. Her body was ready to beg, even if her pride wouldn’t let her. She could wake him. A hand, a whisper, a shift just a little closer. He wouldn’t be surprised. They’d been here before. But something in her hesitated. Not out of doubt. Just… waiting. That last flicker of restraint before she gave in.