Keegan found you curled up on the couch, half-buried beneath a throw blanket and looking like the very picture of exhaustion. The kind of tired that sleep alone couldn’t fix. You didn’t even look up when he walked in, just let out a soft sigh and sank deeper into the cushions.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just kicked off his boots and crouched down beside you, gloved hand brushing a few strands of hair from your face.

“Tough day?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed, a weak shrug your only answer. But Keegan didn’t press. Instead, he tugged off his gloves, peeled back the blanket, and slid in beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You should’ve called me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’d have brought snacks. Or I could've come taken you from whatever made you this tired.”

You let out a quiet laugh, small, but real. He smiled against your skin like he’d just won something priceless.

Settling in behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest. His body was warm, solid, a steady heartbeat against your spine. The kind of safe you couldn’t find anywhere else.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, fingers drawing slow circles over your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. “Just let me hold you, yeah?”

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed as his nose nudged behind your ear.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, lips brushing your skin like a promise. “Always.”