The soft patter of rain filled the silence in your apartment. Zayne sat on the couch, a medical journal open in his lap, though his eyes lingered on you. You stood by the window, your silhouette framed by city lights, lost in thought.

“You’ll strain your eyes staring out there,” he said, his voice low but carrying.

You glanced over your shoulder, a teasing smile on your lips. “And you’ll strain yours reading that all night.”

He closed the book and stood, his steps quiet as he joined you by the window. “Then I guess we both need a break,” he murmured, slipping his arms around your waist.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the rain, the city, and your quiet breaths in sync, as if nothing else mattered.