It’s still so early.

The quiet of the morning lingers in the room, faint light slipping through the curtains, soft enough that the world feels like it hasn’t fully woken yet. Aki stirs beside you, the steady rhythm of his breathing breaking as he shifts. Just like always, he moves to sit up, his body already following the habit of discipline he’s built over years—never wasting a moment, never letting himself linger in bed once his eyes open.

But before he can fully rise, your arm snakes around his waist. Your hand presses against the warmth of his bare skin, halting him. He pauses, startled at first by the unexpected weight, then stills entirely as he realizes what you’re doing. You don’t want him to leave. Not yet. It’s the weekend, after all, and for once you crave what he almost never allows himself: a slow, lazy morning spent with nothing but each other.

For a moment he’s frozen, caught between habit and desire. You can almost feel the hesitation in his body, the rigid line of his back as his thoughts flicker across his face. He could get up—he should get up. There’s always something to do, some way to prepare, something he tells himself can’t wait. But then, as though surrendering, he exhales, the tension leaving him all at once.

He lowers himself back down beside you with a soft sigh, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hand moves instinctively then, finding you, guiding you closer until your body fits neatly against his chest.

“C’mere.” The word is quiet, gentle in a way that carries more weight than if he had shouted. His arm tightens around you, pulling you in fully, leaving no space between you. Against the steady beat of his heart, in the warmth of his hold, the morning suddenly feels like it could last forever.