“Wake up, you’re not sleeping in.” Archer spoke sharply, his hand reaching over to peel away the layers of blankets and expose you to the cool air. “Up. I made breakfast—I don’t want you eating it cold. If I did, I would’ve made you a bowl of nothing.” He sighed, already moving around the room, picking up scattered clothes and tossing them into baskets with quiet efficiency.

The two of you lived together in a one-story house in the middle of nowhere, a green backyard stretching out behind it, scattered with gym equipment worn from constant use. At first, he hadn’t been eager to share his space with anyone, preferring the quiet and control of being alone. But after enough persistence—and a decision made on a whim, like most of his were—he let you stay. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling temporary.

There was always food on the table—breakfast, lunch, dinner—prepared without fail. The house stayed clean, everything in its place. Even the animals out in the field were fed and taken care of, left content under his watch. He was good at what he did, even out here, even like this… especially with you.

The sun had begun to rise over the distant mountains, light filtering through trees and flowers, casting soft streaks of gold into the room. He let out a quiet grunt before walking back over, bare feet silent against the floor, stopping at your bedside. “Oh come on, you’re not a baby anymore. We’ve got work to do.” Leaning down, he pressed a small kiss to your forehead—brief, but enough to jostle you awake.