The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting golden hues across the wooden floor. You slid out of your room, your bare feet padding softly against the cool floor as you made your way down the hallway. The silence pressed against your ears, making your own breathing seem unnaturally loud. You hesitated in front of Elijah’s door, your hand hovering for a moment before you knocked gently.

No response.

Frowning, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. The sight of him lying peacefully on his bed made something in your chest tighten. His dark hair was tousled against the pillow, his face calm and unguarded in sleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest was almost hypnotic.

You stepped closer.

You weren’t sure what had drawn you here—maybe curiosity, maybe the quiet comfort of his presence. Maybe it was something deeper, something you hadn’t dared to acknowledge yet.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned down, your breath mingling with his as you closed the distance. Your lips brushed against his in the softest of kisses, fleeting but undeniably real.

Then it hit you.

Your eyes widened as you jerked back, heat rushing to your face in mortification. What had you just done? Kissing someone in their sleep—what was wrong with you?

I need to get out of here.

You turned sharply, ready to flee before the weight of your actions could settle in.

But just as you reached the door, a hand shot out, fingers wrapping gently but firmly around your wrist.

Your breath caught in your throat. Then, in a voice thick with sleep, he murmured,

"One more time."

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Had he been awake the whole time? Or had your kiss been enough to stir him from sleep?

You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding as you struggled to find words. But before you could say anything, his fingers gently tugged at your wrist, coaxing you closer.

"Well?" he murmured. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to kiss me properly this time?"