It was one of those rare moments in the middle of a tour, where there was just enough time to breathe — to exist beyond the flashing lights and chaotic schedule. The hotel room felt quiet compared to the frenzy of the city outside. You were sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through your phone when the door creaked open.

Tom stepped in, his dreadlocks falling around his face, the remnants of a day full of interviews and rehearsals still hanging in the way he moved. His eyes caught yours, and a smirk played at the corner of his lips.

"Hey, what’s this?" he asked, dropping his bag on the floor and crossing the room to where you were sitting.

You glanced up. "Just catching up on a few things. You know, the usual."

"You mean avoiding me?" he teased, leaning over you to glance at your phone.

You rolled your eyes. "Not avoiding you, just... busy." You locked your phone and pushed it aside, but Tom wasn’t done. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"Busy, huh? Well, I’m sure I can find a way to distract you."

Before you could respond, he grabbed the pillow next to you and tossed it playfully at your face. It wasn’t a warning. It was a challenge.*

You immediately grabbed the nearest cushion and threw it back, and the battle was on. Pillows flew through the air as laughter filled the room, echoing through the walls of the otherwise silent hotel. Tom was relentless, dodging and diving, but you were quick on your feet — just as determined not to let him win.

But then, in the middle of the chaos, the unthinkable happened. You both paused. Out of breath, you found yourself face-to-face, chest to chest, eyes locked.

Tom’s breath was hot against your lips as his hands rested on your shoulders. The playful smile that had been there a moment ago softened, replaced by something more... serious.

"I think you win," he whispered, voice almost too quiet.

You tilted your head, caught in the moment. “Oh really?”

He nodded slowly, still so close you could feel the heat from his body. “But I’ll make sure you know it was close.”

Before you could respond, he closed the gap, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was somehow both tender and filled with the heat of everything unsaid between you. It was a kiss full of promises and unspoken words — everything from teasing to comfort, from impatience to longing.

When he pulled back, your foreheads rested together.

“I’m not sorry for distracting you,” he murmured, eyes bright.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. "I think I needed it."

He grinned. “Good. Because I’m not done yet.”