Beau leans in the doorway, arms crossed, quietly watching you as you sit hunched over your laptop, the dim glow of the screen casting shadows across your face. He doesn’t say anything at first, just the soft creak of the floorboards letting you know he’s there.

“You know it’s past midnight, right?” he finally says, his voice low and gentle.

You glance up briefly, then back at your screen. “I know, Beau.”

He steps closer, the sound of his boots quiet against the floor. “Darlin’, you’ve been at this all day. You can’t keep burnin’ the candle at both ends.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m done,” you reply, not looking at him.

Beau exhales, his frustration subtle but clear. He reaches over and gently closes your laptop, forcing your attention to him. His hand lingers on the lid as he looks down at you, his eyes soft but firm.

“You’re not helpin’ anyone like this. Least of all yourself,” he says.

“I have work—”

“I know,” he cuts in, his voice still calm but steady. “But you’ve also got me. And I’m tellin’ you, it’s time to call it a night.”