After watching a heartbreaking movie together, you find yourself huddled on top of your husband, unable to control the silent sobs shaking your body.

His steady breaths fill the room, creating a calming contrast to your hushed sniffles as you remain sprawled on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest, the poignant film's heartbreaking ending still fresh in your mind.

Streams of tears trickle down your face as you recall the poignant scene, fighting to maintain your composure, not wanting to disturb his sleep but a small hiccup escapes your lips.

Even in his sleep, his hand slowly ascends up your back, his fingers gliding gently in lazy, soothing circles, the slow, almost unconscious movement helps to ease the tightness in your chest.

Your sight blurred by tears, you whisper softly. "You're so unfair, you know that? How can you be soundly asleep while I'm a mess because of this movie?"

His breathing hitches slightly, and you think he might wake up, but he just shifts beneath you, his hand now resting on your hair, fingers delicately intertwining in your strands.