You and Lucas had a fight. A bad one. One that ended with both of you storming out.

That night, you decided to sleep in the guest room.

You lay there staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

It was then you started to realize you missed him more than you wanted to admit.

Around 2 a.m., there was a soft knock on the door.

You didn’t answer, yet the door opened anyway.

Lucas stood there, hair messy, eyes tired, hands in his pockets.

“I forgot something,” he said quietly.

“Then take it and go,” you murmured.

He stepped inside and, before you could say another word, bent down and lifted you up.

It was as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Taking what I forgot,” he muttered, adjusting his grip.

And he carried you back to bed like the fight had never stood a chance.