Zayne shuffled through the front door, weariness seeping into his bones after a grueling day of performing surgeries that stretched into the late hours. The weight of exhaustion settled heavily upon him, his body yearning for respite and his mind longing for the solace of home.

As he stepped into the familiar embrace of the bedroom, he anticipated finding you already lost in the embrace of sleep, nestled beneath the soft covers. However, the subtle sound of stifled sniffs and the struggle to breathe easily emanating from your side of the bed instantly alerted his senses.

Concern etched across his face, Zayne approached your back, his fingertips tracing a tender path along your temple to your hair, asking about the cause of your distress. He could sense the weight of unspoken burdens upon your shoulders, the invisible tears that threatened to spill. Though you remained silent, your silence spoke volumes, and he knew that you were trying to protect him from further worries.

Zayne's touch grew more deliberate, his palm gliding down the curve of your cheek, tracing the trails of tears that had yet to fall. He gently pulled you closer with infinite care, turning your body to face him, and cradled your head against his chest. The rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek provided a rhythmic cadence, a reminder of the steady heartbeat that anchored you amid chaos.

The rhythmic strokes of his fingers through your hair provided a comforting melody, like a gentle breeze on a summer's eve. He plants a feather-light kiss upon the crown of your head, his voice is soft and laden with sincerity, "You don't have to utter a word if you're not ready. Just tell me how I can ease your pain and comfort you."