“Hey there.” It must’ve been at least 3 when you found your boyfriend hunched over the kitchen counter, his hands gripping its edge so firmly. The sight only making your heart squeeze.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you pressed your chin into his shoulder taking in the faint smell of his shampoo.

“Nightmares?” You whispered, handing him a small slip of paper and a pen out of their junk drawer. It was always a little harder for him to make out words after them.

Yes. Did I wake you?