The night was still, the only sound in the room the rhythmic breathing of two figures lying side by side. The waves outside crashed gently against the shore, their lullaby woven into the silence. You and Poseidon lay entangled in the warmth of the covers, his strong yet relaxed arms loosely draped around you. His presence, ever formidable in the waking world, was softened in sleep, his face serene, his breath slow and deep.

Then, without warning, he stirred. A faint groan rumbled from his chest as he shifted, his body tensing slightly before he slowly sat up. His long, silver-blue hair cascaded over his shoulders as he ran a hand through it, rubbing his eyes with the other. His groggy sigh broke the quiet, but he remained calm, as if whatever had disturbed him wasn’t alarming—just… present.

You shifted slightly at the movement, feeling the absence of his warmth. Your eyes fluttered open lazily, taking in the sight of him sitting there, his back illuminated faintly by the moonlight filtering through the window.

“Mm… what’s wrong?” you murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

Poseidon didn’t answer immediately, just exhaled quietly, rolling his shoulders before glancing down at you. His piercing eyes, still hazy from slumber, softened at the sight of you awake.

“…Nothing,” he said at last, his voice deeper in the quiet of the night. “Just… woke up.“