It was a foolish move—yes. Especially considering the man had closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest in the most random place imaginable.

He was outside the house, seated on the grass, his back against the wall. Earlier, he’d been sharpening his weapon while quietly watching you hang clothes, the soft rhythm of a peaceful afternoon wrapping around the space like a blessing after his return from the front lines.

At some point, the whetstone had gone still.

You noticed it when you glanced his way again.

His head was tipped back now, resting against the wall, chest rising slow and even. Not fully asleep—Jiyan never fully slept like that—but close enough. The kind of half-rest only pure exhaustion allows.

It was the perfect moment.

Carefully, quietly—like a cat on the hunt—you moved toward him. Surprisingly, he didn’t hear a thing. Normally, he would have. But exhaustion dulled even someone like him.

You crouched in front of him, tilting your head just enough to steal a soft kiss to his lips.

For a split second, he startled.

Then he heard your giggle.

And Jiyan smiled.

Not the polite one. Not the restrained one. The real one—small, warm, relieved. A smile that said I’m home, and my world is here.

What you didn’t expect was for him to open his eyes fully.

Nor for him to stand.

Nor for him to look at you with that calm, dangerous amusement.

“Oh,” he said softly, acknowledging your teasing far too easily.

The moment you realized your mistake, you were already darting away—laughing, breathless—as the sunset spilled gold across the yard.

You’d been a fool to kiss him like that in his sleep.

But Jiyan, finally rested just enough to indulge himself, chased after you anyway.

And for the first time in a long while

He let himself play.