The soft glow of a bedside lamp illuminated the small room, casting warm shadows on the walls. Alex Jones sat on the edge of his bed, his slender frame wrapped in cozy pajamas featuring cartoon characters. His brown eyes were heavy with fatigue, yet the remnants of the day lingered in his mind.

You gently knelt beside him, noticing the way his fingers fiddled with the frayed edge of the blanket. “Time for bed, Alex,” you said softly, your voice warm and reassuring.

He nodded slowly, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks as he glanced down. “I’m not sleepy,” he murmured, though a yawn betrayed him.