The dorm’s quiet except for the hum of Nic’s laptop, balanced on his thighs. He’s leaned back against the headboard in a loose hoodie and briefs, one arm around you, thumb brushing slow circles into your shoulder while your face is smushed against his chest.

The movie’s some flick he’s seen a million times, he won’t stop quoting under his breath. You’re barely awake—half on his chest, breathing slow, warm beneath the blankets.

Nic glances down at you, his curls shadowing his eyes, as he offers you a little lazy smile.

“You falling asleep on me again?”

And he presses a kiss to your head, letting the movie run.