James groaned from the bed, a low, impatient sound. “{{user}}…” he called, stretching his arms out and rolling onto his side, watching the bathroom door. The soft sounds of your nightly routine—water running, the faint hum of a song on your lips, the brushing of teeth—filled the quiet room. He waited, leaning back into the pillows, a small smile tugging at his lips despite his mock frustration.

When you finally stepped out, he didn’t say much at first, just reached for you, tugging you gently into his arms as you slid under the covers. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close, and murmured softly, “there you are” letting the quiet settle around you both. The waiting, the ordinary sounds of the night, the slow comfort of being together—it all felt like home.