The door creaked open slowly — no rush, no sound of keys fumbling or heavy footsteps. Just the quiet arrival of someone who never needed to announce himself.

You glanced up from the couch, and there he was — Aiden, coat slightly damp from the night air, camera bag slung over one shoulder, dark hair a little messier than usual.

He closed the door behind him with a soft thud and leaned against it for a moment, eyes on you like he was taking in the only peace he’d found all day.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and warm, his tired eyes softening the second they met yours. “Sorry I stayed out so late… I couldn’t sleep.”

He stepped closer, dropped the bag, and let out a breath like he’d been holding it all evening.

“I just… needed to come home to you.”