Moonlight spills across the sheets as you shift, his arm instantly tightening around your waist. The world holds still — only his breath stirs the quiet.

“Stay.” He murmurs, voice rough with sleep. “You move too much. I was just getting comfortable.”

You pause. His eyes open, soft and tired, the edge of his mask gone.

“You’ll be gone when I wake up again.” He whispers. “So just… stay like this.”

The night exhales, and neither of you move.