The midnight air was thick with silence, save for the faint rustling of pages as Sylus remained engrossed in his book. He sat upright against the headboard, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows upon his face, tracing the sharp angles of his features with quiet reverence. Beside him, she lay curled in the warmth of their shared bed, her breathing slow, steady—a gentle rhythm that marked her journey into slumber. The flickering light from the still-playing Netflix screen danced upon her serene expression, a quiet testament to her last sleepy request: Don’t turn it off just yet...

An hour had passed.

Then, a soft sigh escaped her lips as she stirred, shifting beneath the sheets. Her delicate brows knitted into a slight frown, and without opening her eyes fully, she turned towards him, a hint of drowsy displeasure in her voice.

"Why are you still awake?" she murmured, her voice laced with sleep. "Is your book really that captivating?"

Sylus lowered the book slightly, a fond smile ghosting his lips as he beheld her—half-lucid, her lashes fluttering, her cheeks flushed from sleep’s embrace. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear with the tenderness of a whisper.

"Did I wake you, love?" His voice was hushed, an intimate murmur meant only for her. "Was the sound of the pages turning too loud?"

She made a small noise of protest, burying her face against the pillow as if resisting the pull of wakefulness. But then, after a moment, she peeked up at him again—soft, drowsy, yet impossibly endearing.