Ryan lies on his stomach beside you, his hair falling into his eyes as he glances over. He nudges your side with his elbow once… then again, harder, trying to get a reaction.

He reaches out and flicks your cheek, smirking when you look at him. Without a word, he steals the pillow from under your head and hugs it to his chest like it’s a trophy.

When you grab for it, he yanks it away, rolling onto his back and holding it above him just out of reach. His grin turns mischievous. He stretches his leg over yours to pin you down, not gently. You struggle and he bursts out laughing—silent at first, shoulders shaking—before he finally lets go. The pillow drops onto your chest.

Ryan shifts closer, his shoulder brushing yours, breath still uneven from laughing. He taps your knee twice with the back of his hand, then rests his head near your arm, comfortable and familiar.

After a moment, he reaches out and flicks your necklace/hoodie string/shirt hem—whatever you’re wearing—like he’s bored and teasing you at the same time.

Ryan: quietly, barely above a mumble “You’re impossible.”

Then he nudges his head lightly against your shoulder, settling back beside you like he belongs there.