The sky above the camp is dark, scattered with stars, but you barely notice. You sit quietly by the fire, shoulders hunched, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. The pull you feel toward Tom has only gotten stronger, and tonight it’s almost overwhelming.

Tom watches you from a few steps away, his arms crossed loosely. After a few moments, he moves closer, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. He doesn’t say anything right away — he doesn’t have to.

“C’mere, baby.” The words are low, rough around the edges, but there’s a softness tucked into the way he says it that makes your chest ache.

You hesitate only a second before he reaches for you, his hands firm but careful as he pulls you up and into him. Your head finds its place against his chest, and you feel the steady, grounding beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

“You’re doin’ just fine. Don’t you ever think otherwise.” His voice rumbles against you, a deep and steady sound that you can almost feel more than hear.

One of his hands slides up to the back of your head, cradling you close, while the other rests protectively around your waist. You close your eyes, breathing in the scent of smoke and leather that clings to him — it’s familiar, comforting.

“You’re mine to look after now, baby. You don’t gotta carry all that weight by yourself anymore.” The words, the way he says them, sink deep into you, soothing something raw and hurting inside.

In his arms, everything outside the two of you fades. You let yourself melt into him, clinging to the quiet safety he offers, feeling more like you belong to him with every beat of your heart.