Maeve stood near the doorway, half out of her armor, exhaustion written into every line of her body.

You’d already started toward the exit. “Yeah,” she muttered, voice rough. “Goodnight.”

A beat. Silence. Then—

“…Stay.”

Quiet enough it almost didn’t sound real. Maeve didn’t look at you immediately, jaw tight like she already regretted saying it.

“No weird emotional interpretation,” she added flatly, still staring ahead. “I just don’t particularly feel like being alone tonight.”

A pause. Then finally her eyes lifted to yours. Guarded. Tired. Too honest. “…Don’t make me ask twice.”