It was well past midnight when you finally drifted into real sleep, the kind where your breathing evened out and your body went soft against the mattress. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the heater and the slow rhythm of your breaths.

Sunghoon was wide awake.

He lay on his side watching you, chin propped lightly against his arm, eyes tracing familiar details he’d memorized long ago. Your lashes. The way your mouth fell slightly open when you slept. He shifted closer, careful not to wake you, but the need sat heavy in his chest, restless and persistent.

His arm slid around your waist, slow and deliberate. He pressed closer, forehead resting between your shoulders, breathing you in like it might calm him. It didn’t. His fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, tugging just enough to pull you back against him.

“Hey,” he murmured quietly, voice low and needy in the dark. No response. You didn’t stir.

He sighed, nose brushing your neck, lips hovering there like he was debating something. “You’re really asleep,” he whispered, half amused, half frustrated. His grip tightened, a little more honest now. “I missed you today.”

He shifted again, knee nudging between yours, body warm and unmistakably awake behind you. Still gentle. Still patient. Just… needy.“Wake up,” he murmured softly, voice barely louder than a breath. “Just for a minute.”

His thumb traced slow circles at your waist as he waited, hoping this time you’d stir.