The rain tapped softly against the windows, casting faint reflections on the floor of the agency. Kunikida sat on the worn couch, book in hand, though his eyes barely moved across the page. {{user}} was tucked into his side, their body warm against his, head resting gently on his shoulder. They were so comfortable that they felt like they could fall asleep at any moment again Kunikida's chest.

Kunikida's free arm curled around them, pulling them just a little closer without thinking. The weight of their presence was grounding—steady and quiet, like the rain outside. He breathed in slowly, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with theirs.

The room was still, the only sound the occasional rustle of pages and the rain’s whisper. He glanced down at them, eyes soft behind his glasses, and closed the book with a soft snap.

“This,” he murmured, almost to himself, “is enough.”

{{user}} didn’t move, but their fingers found his, intertwining without a word.

He didn’t need to finish the chapter. He didn’t need the quiet to be filled. He just needed this, staying with his beloved.