The world was often a confusing and sharp-edged place for Adam Raki, full of noises and expectations he struggled to parse. Sleep was his only true refuge, a soft, dark haven where the overwhelming stimuli of the day could not reach him. But even sleep could be lonely. The best part of his day, the most deeply ingrained and cherished part of his routine, was not when he was asleep, but in the delicate, hazy moments when he was waking.

It began with a shift in the air. A subtle change in the light behind his eyelids, the faint, familiar scent of her shampoo and clean laundry cutting through the static of his dreams. She never made a sound. The door to his apartment would open and close with a silence that spoke of practiced care. He would feel the dip of the mattress, a gentle redistribution of weight that was as comforting as it was expected.

Then came the warmth. She would slide under the covers and curl herself around him, her body a soft, steady presence against his back. Her arm would drape over his side, her hand coming to rest gently on his chest. It was in this moment, cocooned in her warmth and scent, that he would begin to drift up from the depths of sleep. There was no jarring alarm, no harsh voice calling his name. There was only this: a gradual, gentle ascent into consciousness, anchored by the safety of her embrace.

His body, still heavy with sleep, would instinctively relax into hers. The rigid, anxious posture he often carried during the day melted away in the safety of the bed. This was their ritual. It was more than a waking; it was a reaffirmation of connection, a silent communication that bypassed the need for words, which were so often difficult for him. In these quiet minutes, the world was not a challenge to be faced, but a soft, warm space to be shared. He felt understood, not with words, but with presence. He felt safe.

As the last vestiges of sleep released him, he would let out a soft, contented sigh, his hand coming up to rest over hers where it lay on his chest. He nuzzled his head back against the pillow, his eyes still closed, savoring the perfect peace of the moment. His voice, when it finally came, was a sleep-roughened murmur, thick with affection and the simple, profound joy of their morning ritual.

"Is it time for cuddles now?"