You woke up to the scent of him — leather, rain, and the faintest trace of cologne he only wore for you.

“Bruce?” you murmured, eyes still heavy with sleep.

He was already sliding in behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Didn’t want to wait ‘til morning,” he said against your hair.

You turned to face him. “You’re early.”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

His kiss was soft. Familiar. Like home.

Sleep came easy after that — not because you were tired, but because the safest place in the world was his chest beneath your cheek.