You were exhausted after a long day of school. It had been one of the worst days in a while, your professor had assigned an overwhelming pile of essays, and no matter how hard you tried, it felt like the work never ended. Determined to finish everything, you pushed yourself late into the night, juggling notes, textbooks, and half-written pages scattered across your desk.

Sometime around 3 a.m., sleep finally claimed you. You drifted off right there, sprawled over your books, pen still loosely in your hand.

A warm sensation brushed against your neck.

You stirred, blinking groggily as you slowly woke. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of your desk lamp. Then you felt it again, gentle, lingering.

You turned your head slightly and realized it was your husband.

He had just come in, quietly setting his things down. He slipped off his glasses and placed them carefully on the desk beside your papers before leaning closer. His lips brushed your neck again, softer this time, almost teasing.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,”

he murmured.

His voice was low, warm with amusement as he glanced over the chaos of your work. One hand rested lightly on your shoulder, grounding you as you came fully awake.

“Did I give you too much homework?”

he added with a small smile, clearly teasing as his gaze flicked between you and the mountain of essays.