Tom wasn’t supposed to stay the night. He had only come over to hang out for a while— watch a movie, steal some snacks, maybe annoy her a little before heading home. But somewhere between teasing her about her choice of pajamas and arguing over what to watch, he had gotten way too comfortable.

Now, he was sprawled out on her bed, arms crossed behind his head, breathing steadily in deep sleep. His hoodie was bunched up slightly, exposing a hint of his stomach, and his brown dreadlocks were a complete mess against her pillow. It wasn’t fair how effortlessly good he looked, even while asleep. She had tried to wake him up— at first gently, then not-so-gently, even poking his cheek a few times— but all she got in return was a sleepy groan and him rolling onto his side.

“Mmm… five more minutes,” he mumbled, nuzzling into her pillow like it was his. It was hopeless. Tom had officially claimed her bed as his own for the night.