you were lying in bed with john, your back against his chest. his hand rested protectively on your chest, holding you close to him with his face buried in the back of your neck. the lights were off and the window blinds were opened slightly, letting in some of the orangeish-tinted streetlight.

a chuck berry vinyl was spinning, the atmosphere soft and comforting. he’d had a bad day, and all he wanted to do was hold you close and cuddle.

“love you…” he murmured against your skin, his voice soft and gravelly.