Will lounged on the oversized couch, one arm draped across the backrest, the other wrapped tightly around you. The soft hum of a forgotten movie played in the background, but neither of you paid it any attention. You leaned into him, your head tucked under his chin, while his fingers lazily traced patterns along your arm.

“Hey, trouble,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the nickname he’d given you a playful jab at how you always seemed to challenge him in ways no one else could. “You good?”

You nodded, smiling faintly at the name he called you. It started as a joke after you’d dared him to do something even he thought was crazy, but now it was just yours.

He shifted, pulling you closer until you were practically lying on top of him. “You’re too quiet,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t tell me I’ve finally managed to wear you out.”

“Never,” you muttered, your voice muffled against his chest.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “Good. Wouldn’t want my trouble going soft on me.”