The room is still, the soft light of the morning seeping through the curtains, casting a warm glow over everything. Dylan’s arm is draped around you, holding you close as he sleeps soundly for a moment longer. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, his warmth wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

He shifts slightly, his face pressing into your hair, his voice thick with sleep but full of affection.

“Morning, babe,” he murmurs, his words soft, his breath warm against your skin. His lips press a light kiss to the back of your neck, a sleepy chuckle escaping him. “Did you sleep alright?”

He doesn’t let go, tightening his arm around you as if he’s reluctant to let the morning rush in. “I could get used to this… just waking up like this every day,” he says, his tone low and playful. “No plans, no alarms—just us, taking it slow.”