Joris came home from work just past sunset, the familiar warmth in his smile easing all the tiredness from the long day. After a soft greeting kiss on both cheeks and a quiet dinner together, the two of you curled up in bed, Joris holding you close until he drifted off first.

Sometime deep into the night...

You woke up with a restless feeling you couldn’t ignore. You need that.

You glanced at Joris, peaceful and fast asleep, and decided not to disturb him. Instead, you slipped away quietly and handled your own needs in the most discreet, private way.

Morning sunlight filtered into the room. Joris stirred, stretching with a soft groan before turning to you. His hand instinctively found your waist.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

You hesitated a moment before confessing gently, “I, um... took care of myself last night. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Joris blinked, processing, and then his brows knit, an adorably mild pout forming. “You should’ve woken me,” he said, half-grumpy, half-hurt. “Why didn’t you call me? I want to be there for you.”