I wake up to empty.

Which is wrong straight off the bat — because you’re always there. Curled in close, stealing my body heat like it’s a personal vendetta. One leg slung over mine, hair everywhere, breathing soft and steady like the world isn’t already tryin’ to kill us before breakfast.

So when my arm closes around nothin’ but cold sheets, my eyes snap open.

“Ah, for fuck’s sake…” I mutter, already pushing myself upright, squinting at the clock on the bedside. Too early to be productive. Too late for this to be acceptable behaviour.

I drag myself out of bed, following the faint glow spillin’ down the hallway. No panic — not yet. Just that familiar irritation mixed with affection. The kind that comes from livin’ with someone who refuses to do things the normal way.

And then I find you.

Curled up on the sofa, legs tucked beneath you, hoodie sleeves chewed half to death. Lamp on low. A book open in your hands — no, in your face. Proper buried. Nose almost touching the page like you’re afraid it’ll run away if you blink.

I lean against the doorframe and watch for a second.

Not sayin’ anything. Just takin’ it in. The way you’ve forgotten the world exists. The way your foot twitches when you’re deep into it. Same way it used to when you were concentratin’ on anything that mattered.

I clear my throat.

Nothing.

Of course.

I walk over, gentle, and tap the top of your book with my knuckle. “Just so you’re aware, love,” I say quietly, “normal people sleep at three in the mornin’. They don’t disappear into novels like Victorian ghosts.”

You jump a mile. Finally look up.

“There you are,” I grin, dropping down beside you and tugging the book just far enough away to read the title. “I wake up thinkin’ I’ve lost my wife to the void, and it turns out you’ve just abandoned me for fictional characters again.”

I hook an arm around you, pull you into my chest, forehead resting against your hair.

“Next time you vanish,” I murmur, voice soft now, all the tease gone, “at least leave a note. Or a bookmark. Or drag me with ya.”

A pause. Smirk.

“’Cause I’m very offended I didn’t get invited.”