The apartment was dim when Drew stepped inside, the soft click of the door the only sound to break the stillness. He closed it gently behind him, shaking off his jacket and running a hand through his hair—still damp from the evening drizzle.

It had been a long day on set—early call times, late reshoots, and just enough caffeine to keep him upright. He didn’t expect much when he got home. Maybe some leftovers, maybe a quiet scroll through his phone, maybe collapsing on the couch without a single thought.

But what he found instead was better.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the warm glow of the bedside lamp spilled into the hallway. He walked in quietly, his steps slowing as soon as he saw her.

{{user}} was curled up on top of the comforter, one leg tangled in a blanket and the other kicked free. She wore one of his hoodies—too big, the sleeves bunched around her hands—and had clearly fallen asleep mid-whatever she’d been doing. Her phone rested beside her, still unlocked and paused on a half-written message. A book was open on her stomach, slowly rising and falling with each soft breath.

Drew stood there for a moment, quiet and still.

There was something about the sight that made the day melt off of him. Her peaceful expression, the faint crease in her brow that never quite went away, even in sleep. She looked comfortable, safe. Like this space was hers just as much as his.

He moved carefully, setting his things down with barely a sound. Then he walked over, crouched beside the bed, and gently slid the book off her. He smiled a little, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face.

“You knocked out early, huh?” he whispered, his voice soft and amused.