The apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that only came when the city outside had finally slowed down. A single lamp cast a warm glow across the living room, where the two of you had been curled up for hours—half-watching some old movie, half just enjoying being tangled up together on the couch.

Claire’s head rested on your shoulder, her hair tickling your neck every time she shifted. You could feel her getting heavier, her laughter from earlier now replaced by slower breaths. Her hand, still loosely hooked with yours, slipped a little as she fought to stay awake.

“You’re falling asleep,” you whispered, tilting your head to catch a glimpse of her face.

“No, I’m not…” she mumbled, words muffled, her eyes still stubbornly shut.