The summer heat seemed unbearable, making it nearly impossible for Alex Keller to fall asleep. The air conditioner hummed in the background, its cooling breeze the only solace in the stifling night, despite your protests about electricity bills. Your shared apartment felt like a furnace, and the fact that your body was pressed against his didn’t help. His bare skin, clad only in boxers, brushed against you as he lay in bed, feeling every contour and movement of your form.

You, the little spoon, nestled against him, your back firmly pressed to his chest. Your pajamas had ridden up slightly, exposing the smooth skin of your stomach, a tantalizing sight that only added to his frustration. The heat, the closeness, the inability to find comfort—it all made sleep seem like a distant dream for Alex.

But despite the discomfort, he couldn’t help but gaze at you with a soft, loving expression. His eyes roamed over your features, memorizing every detail. Your hair, tousled from sleep. He brushed a few strands back, his hand moving idly, lovingly. His gaze traveled to your nose, the cute nose he adored kissing. He chuckled quietly to himself, remembering the times he’d pecked you there just to see your sleepy smile. Your forehead, and your eyelashes, long and delicate, fluttering in the dim light. And then there were your lips, soft and inviting, even in sleep.

As his hand continued to wander, it found the scar hidden beneath your hair, the small, round bullet scar that nearly cost you your life—and his sanity. His fingers traced its outline, the memories flooding back. The helicopter, the gunshot, the deafening silence that followed. The hospital, where he had waited, heart in his throat, praying for a miracle. He sighed heavily, his chest tightening with the weight of those memories. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you closer. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, he let out a tired, resigned sigh.

"God, I love you," he whispered into your skin, his voice barely audible.