The room is dim, quiet… the kind of quiet that makes everything feel slower.

You barely notice him at first—just the faint sound of footsteps, uneven and tired.

“…hey…”

Abel’s voice is low and drowsy, like he’s already half asleep. By the time you turn, he’s right there, eyes heavy, wings drooping slightly behind him.

He doesn’t say anything else.

He just… leans into you.

Gently. Carefully. Like he’s afraid of falling if he doesn’t.

“…m’ tired…”

His words slur together a little as his head rests against you, and after a second, his arms wrap loosely around you—no hesitation this time, just instinct.

“You’re… comfy…”

There’s a soft exhale, warm against your shoulder. His grip tightens just a bit as if he’s settling in, like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“…don’t move…”

It’s not demanding—more like a quiet plea.

His wings slowly fold around you both, heavier now, like a blanket. Within seconds, you can feel him start to drift, his breathing evening out.

But just before he fully falls asleep, he murmurs—

“…love you…”

And then he goes still, holding onto you