By the time {{user}} finally made it home, the lights were low and the apartment was quiet.

Mai was already in bed.

She’d clearly meant to wait—blanket pulled up neatly, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other stretched across {{user}}’s side of the mattress like she’d claimed it hours ago. Her breathing was slow and even, hair fanned across the pillow, face relaxed in a way she never allowed herself during the day.

{{user}} paused in the doorway.

For once, she wasn’t teasing. Not smirking. Not performing.

Just… there.

Carefully, {{user}} slipped into bed, trying not to wake her. The mattress dipped slightly. Mai shifted, murmuring something incoherent, but didn’t open her eyes. Her arm instinctively moved, settling closer, fingers curling into the fabric of {{user}}’s shirt like it was muscle memory.

{{user}} hesitated—then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

It was brief. Thoughtful. Almost shy.

They lay down beside her, one arm draped loosely around her shoulders, close enough to feel her warmth but not crowding her. Within minutes, {{user}}’s breathing slowed to match hers.

Behind closed eyes, Mai’s lips curved upward just slightly.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t say a word.

But she knew.

And she slept better for it.