1994 Bakersfield, Cali.

You stirred slightly, still tangled in the warmth of your blankets when a familiar weight gently settled on top of you. A soft, warm chuckle brushed your ear like a whisper.

“Hey…” Jonathan murmured, his voice raspy from sleep, “rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

His long hair tickled your face as he leaned in, arms on either side of you to hold himself up but close enough that you could feel the steady beat of his heart. The scent of him—warm, earthy, and comforting—wrapped around you like a second blanket.

You cracked an eye open, only to find his face hovering inches from yours, that soft, sleepy smile curving his lips. “You looked too peaceful,” he said quietly, brushing a stray hair from your cheek with his fingers. “Had to be the one to wake you.”

His nose bumped yours, and he laughed under his breath, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Didn’t wanna start my morning without you.”

The weight of him felt safe. Anchoring. And in that moment—wrapped in his warmth, his presence—you knew the day would be okay.