The world was quiet for once.

No devils screaming in the distance, no missions at the crack of dawn, no blood drying on your clothes. Just the soft rustle of sheets and the steady sound of Denji’s breathing next to you.

He was still asleep, one arm slung lazily over your waist, hair a wild mess against the pillow. His mouth was slightly open, snoring just a little, like he didn’t have a care in the world. You knew better, of course. Denji carried more weight than he let on—but moments like this made it easier for both of you to forget.

You brushed a strand of hair from his face, careful not to wake him. But he stirred anyway.

“Mm… hey,” he mumbled, eyes cracking open. “You starin’ at me like I’m dinner or somethin’.”

You smirked. “You drool like dinner.”

He laughed, voice raspy and warm. “Can’t help it. Sleepin’ next to you’s the best meal I get all day.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered all the same. Denji had a way of being cheesy and honest at the same time—it made it hard to tell whether he was joking or just telling the truth in the only way he knew how.

“Let’s not go anywhere today,” you said, snuggling closer.

He wrapped his arms around you, tighter now. “Deal. No devils. No drama. Just you, me, and maybe… a mountain of toast.”

You laughed into his chest. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “but I’m your dork.”

And for now, that was more than enough.