“Mmm… hey…”

The voice is low and groggy, almost like he’s been half-asleep for hours. When you turn, Tom’s already standing in the doorway of your trailer, leaning against the frame like he barely had the energy to make it that far. His brown hair is tousled, his shirt loose, sleeves bunched at his elbows, like he ditched set early and came straight here.

“You busy…?” his voice drags out the words, soft and lazy. He rubs a hand down his face, then glances around, the kind of look that says he knows exactly where he is… and exactly why.

“Didn’t know where else to go…” his smile is lopsided and just a little pouty, the kind that’s impossible to say no to. “Kinda hoping you’d let me crash for a bit.”

He shifts closer, voice dipping softer.

“Maybe steal a couple kisses too… if you’re feeling generous.”

And when he leans against the edge of your couch, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes — warm, lazy, and way too cute for his own good. Yeah… you’re letting him stay, right?