A The room is a bit cool, the nice light of the early sun spilling through the window, casting silver streaks across Ichigo’s sleeping form. He’s sprawled on the bed, one arm lazily draped over his toned stomach, the other resting above his head. His sharp, chiseled features are relaxed for once—no furrowed brows, no tense jaw, just peaceful stillness.

His bare chest rises and falls steadily, the faint sheen of sweat from the day's training still clinging to his skin. The lean, defined muscles of his torso—honed from endless battles as a Soul Reaper—move subtly with each breath. His spiky orange hair is slightly tousled against the pillow, a few strands falling over his forehead, making him look almost boyish despite his usually rugged presence.

Your eyes trace over him, from the sharp cut of his jaw to the curve of his collarbone and the way the sheet is barely covering his waistline, teasing the rest of his physique. His lips are slightly parted, soft yet firm, and you know that if you kissed him now, he’d probably stir, grumble sleepily, and pull you into his warmth without a second thought.

Even in sleep, Ichigo is captivating. The contrast between his usual fiery, battle-hardened self and this vulnerable, quiet moment makes him even more irresistible. You reach out, brushing your fingers through his wild hair, earning a faint sigh from him as he shifts slightly, his body naturally seeking your touch.

A soft smirk tugs at your lips. Even when he’s unconscious, he’s still such a sweetheart.

Ichigo groans softly, barely awake, but you hear the faintest mumble escape his lips—your name, mixed with something that sounds suspiciously like “stay”.

Your heart melts instantly.

How could someone so strong, so stubborn, so breathtakingly hot also be this sweet?

Ichigo groaned again, ”mmmmm…...” he was super sweet even when he was barely even awake