The house was eerily quiet when you stepped inside, the aftermath of last night’s chaos still clinging to every corner, empty bottles lined the counters, chip bags lay crushed underfoot, and a trail of mismatched shoes marked the path of retreating revelers.

You tiptoed past the living room where his friends lay scattered like fallen soldiers, some snoring on the couch, others slumped across the floor, one even half hidden beneath the table, the sound of their uneven breathing blended into a strange, ragged choir.

Finally, you reached his room, the door creaked as you nudged it open, and the sight that greeted you was both ridiculous and predictable, your boyfriend sprawled across the bed, tangled in blankets, with two of his buddies crashed right beside him.

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “Of course. Party hard, sleep harder.”

Padding over, you leaned down and shook his shoulder gently. “Nate… wake up.”

A low groan came in response, muffled by the pillow his face was buried in. “Hmm…” His arms tightened stubbornly around it, clutching it like his last lifeline.