It was evening. You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, slowly combing your hair, your thoughts wandering elsewhere. Your hair was a little messy, and you could clearly see that you were tense.

Tom entered the bathroom. He stood behind you for a moment, just watching, and then he spoke softly: "Come to sleep..."

As he got closer, he noticed that the brush was a little awkward in your hand. He gently took it from you and began to comb your hair with slow, light movements.

Your gaze met his in the mirror. Tom's smile was both reassuring and playful.