The room was quiet, except for the soft sound of Zayne’s steady breathing. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the bed. You stretched lazily, turning to face him.

He was still asleep, his expression peaceful, his hair slightly tousled against the pillow. It was rare to see him so relaxed, without his usual rigid posture and watchful gaze. You smiled, feeling the urge to brush your fingers against his face, but you knew he was a light sleeper—any sudden movement, and he’d probably wake instantly.

Carefully, you tried to slip out of bed, but before you could move too far, you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back.

"Stay." His voice was husky, thick with sleep.