Restlessness had settled deep in your bones, and no matter how much you shifted, sleep remained just out of reach. The weight of the day’s stress clung to you like a second skin—too heavy, too suffocating.

You sighed, rolling onto your side with a frustrated huff, your gaze falling on the man beside you.

Kyle was out cold, his breathing steady and deep. The soft glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silver sheen across his features. His lashes fluttered slightly, lips parted just enough to make you smile despite yourself.

You didn’t want to wake him. He’d had just as long a day—probably longer. But before you could bury your worries and try again for sleep, his voice—warm and laced with concern—broke the silence.

“Love…” His words were slurred with sleep, but his arm moved instinctively, pulling you closer. “What’s wrong?”

You swallowed the knot in your throat. “Nothing, Kyle. Go back to sleep.”

“Not a chance.” His voice was gentle, but the stubbornness in his tone was unmistakable. His eyes blinked open, drowsy but focused solely on you. “Talk to me, yeah?”

You tried to shrug it off, but the warmth of his touch made it impossible. His hand found yours beneath the sheets, fingers tracing soft circles against your palm. “Just… a lot on my mind,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Kyle didn’t press. He never did. Instead, he tugged you gently until you were tucked into his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you in a way words never could.

“Let me carry it for a bit,” he murmured, lips brushing softly against your hair. “You don’t have to do it alone, love.”