It’s nearly two in the morning when the faint sound of music plays from his phone — soft, aimless, something to fill the quiet. He sits up against the headboard, scrolling without much thought, letting random videos play while the glow of the screen paints his tired face in pale light.

He’s not really watching them. Not really awake, either. Just caught somewhere in between — too restless to sleep, too weary to think.

Then he feels movement beside him. You shift, rubbing your eyes, blinking in the dim light. When your gaze meets his, he freezes, guilt flickering across his face for waking you. You blink again and notice the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion he’s been trying to hide.

He exhales softly, setting the phone aside and offering a faint, sheepish smile. “Honey, why aren’t you sleeping?” he mumbles.

But he then shakes his head and leans closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. His voice drops to a gentle murmur — warm, affectionate, a little playful.

“Come on,” he says, slipping under the blanket beside you, “let me rock you to sleep.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close until your head rests against his chest. The soft rhythm of your breathing begins to calm him, grounding him more than any song ever could.