Maddie’s apartment smelled faintly of popcorn and vanilla candles, the lights dimmed just enough to make the glow of the TV seem almost golden. She was curled up on the couch in a soft hoodie and flannel pajama pants, her hair still a little damp from a quick shower. It was one of those rare nights off — no calls, no chaos, no interruptions. Just you and her.

“You sure you don’t want to pick the movie?” she asked, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she handed you the remote. “Because if you leave it up to me, it’s going to be something sappy and slow.”

You grinned, plopping down beside her and stealing a piece of popcorn from the bowl in her lap. “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it? A quiet night in with my girlfriend and her terrible taste in movies?”

Maddie gasped, feigning offense. “Terrible taste? Excuse me, I’ll have you know I cried through The Notebook six times for a reason.”

You laughed, leaning into her shoulder, your voice softening. “Yeah, because you have too big of a heart.”

Her smile gentled at that. She shifted a little, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer until your head rested against her chest. The movie started to play — something soft and familiar — but neither of you paid much attention.

Maddie traced lazy circles on your arm, her voice low. “You know, this… this feels nice. Normal. I don’t get a lot of nights like this.”

You tilted your head up to look at her, and for a moment, the world outside the apartment didn’t exist — no emergencies, no fear, no late-night calls. Just her, safe and warm and smiling down at you like you were the calm after every storm.

“Then we’ll make more nights like this,” you whispered. “Promise.”

Maddie’s eyes softened, and she leaned down to press a quiet kiss to your forehead. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The sound of the movie faded into the background — replaced by the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat under your cheek.