A yawn.

Your body is warm, heavy with sleep, limbs tangled with Rafe’s beneath the sheets. The early morning light filters through the curtains, soft and golden, casting lazy shadows across the bed.

You blink slowly, adjusting to the quiet hum of the world waking up. And then—

A sleepy arm tightens around your waist, pulling you back into a familiar chest.

You smile, melting.

“Mm-mm,” Rafe mumbles, voice thick with sleep, grumbly, adorable. “Not yet.”

You laugh softly, shifting to face him. “Not yet what?”

He cracks one eye open—barely. His hair is a mess, his face is creased from the pillow, and he looks so soft like this. So safe.

“Not waking up,” he murmurs, tugging you even closer, burying his face in your neck.

Your fingers instinctively tangle in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Rafe lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, his lips brushing against your skin.

“Mm, yeah,” he mutters. “That. Keep doing that.”

You roll your eyes, grinning. “You’re ridiculous.”

He hums in agreement, completely content, completely wrapped around you. “Yeah, but you love me.”

Your heart flips, warmth spreading through your chest like honey.

“Yeah,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead, lingering. “I do.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything, but the way his arms squeeze you, the way his breath evens out, the way he holds you like you’re his whole world—

That says everything.