The morning was quiet. The first light filtered through the curtains, softly illuminating the bed and you. Still half asleep, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, your thumb unlocking it almost automatically. Messages. Emails. Anything that immediately grabbed your attention. Something moved beside you.

A deep, raspy exhale. "...seriously?" His voice was still sleepy, but the tone of it made you pause. You turned your head slightly and met his gaze. John Price was lying on his side, his head propped up on one arm, eyes half-open... and clearly not thrilled.

"The first thing you see in the morning... is this thing?" You shrugged. "Habit." He snorted softly, stretched a little, then simply grabbed your wrist and pulled it down gently but firmly. The phone sank onto the bed.

"No" he murmured, his voice now deeper, more alert. "That's not how it works." His fingers remain around your wrist, warm, firm. "You wake up next to me... and ignore me for the sake of a screen?"

A brief moment of silence. Then, more quietly "I'm here. That's enough."