The quiet hum of the Malibu mansion was a comforting lullaby, and sleep had just begun to pull you under when a soft, tentative knock at the door drew you back to wakefulness. You blinked groggily at the clock, noting the late hour.

"Come in," You called, your voice a sleepy whisper as you sat up, rubbing your eyes.

The door opened slowly, and Tony stepped inside, hesitating in the doorway. It was unusual to see him like this—anxiety etched in his features, something almost fragile in his demeanor.

"Hey," he murmured softly, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Did I wake you?"

"A little, but it’s okay," You reassured him, patting the space beside you on the bed. "What’s up?"

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck as if searching for the right words. "I, uh... I couldn’t sleep," he admitted, eyes darting to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And um, I realized that I'm actually quite terrible at sleeping alone," he confessed, his tone a mix of embarrassment and sincerity. "And I... well, I kinda need some company."