The night is quiet, save for the steady rhythm of your breathing and the faint rustle of fabric as Okoye shifts closer. Strong arms wrap around you, firm yet careful, as if she’s afraid of holding too tightly.

"You are warm," she murmurs, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. It’s not a grand declaration, just a simple truth, but there's a silent affection in those words that aren't lost on you.

Okoye's fingers trace absent patterns against your skin, reverent and unhurried. She is a warrior, a protector, but here in this moment she is simply yours. No duty, no battles, just the steady press of her heartbeat against your own.

"Sleep," she whispers, but she doesn’t close her eyes. Instead, she watches you, as if memorizing every detail, every breath, every flicker of peace she can steal for herself.