Charles had gone unusually quiet afterward, the energy from earlier gradually giving way to a calm, comfortable silence. The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of a lamp on the nightstand. You stayed curled beneath the blankets while Charles remained close, one arm draped loosely around your waist as if he had no intention of letting you drift too far away.

For a while, neither of you spoke. He absentmindedly played with your hair, occasionally glancing down at you before looking away again. There was something thoughtful about him now, a noticeable contrast to the intensity from earlier. Moments like these always seemed to bring out a softer side of Charles that very few people ever got to see.

Eventually, he reached for a bottle of water and handed it to you before pulling the blanket higher over your shoulders. Once he was satisfied that you were comfortable, he settled back against the pillows, keeping you tucked against his side. The room remained quiet except for the faint sound of traffic somewhere outside, neither of you feeling any need to fill the silence.

Charles lowered his gaze to you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your arm. His expression softened slightly as he studied your face for a moment. Then, in a voice barely above a murmur, he asked "Are you okay, amour?"