You blinked awake to the faint sound of typing. The room was dim, the golden light of late afternoon filtering weakly through the curtains. Your brief nap hadn’t lasted long, but long enough for him to already be back at it again.

There he was—sitting at his desk in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, hair still damp from a shower he clearly hadn’t finished drying from. Droplets of water slid down his neck, tracing lines over his shoulders and soaking into the waistband of his pants. His laptop screen cast a pale glow on his face, highlighting the exhaustion sitting beneath his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy exhale.

You rubbed the sleep from yours and groaned softly. “You’re working again? Didn’t you just get out of the shower?”

He didn’t even glance up. “Deadline’s tonight. I’ll rest after I finish this part.”

“You said that yesterday,” you muttered, sitting up.

That made him pause—just for a moment. His typing slowed, then stopped, his shoulders sagging slightly before he leaned back in his chair. “Yeah… I know. I just need to get this done.”

You sighed, pushing the blanket off your legs as you stood. “At least dry your hair before you catch a cold.” You grabbed the towel hanging over the back of the couch and walked over to him.

He gave a tired little laugh when you placed it over his head. “You’re starting to sound like my mom.”

“Good, because someone has to make sure you don’t collapse again.”

He smiled faintly beneath the towel, his voice quieter this time. “Thanks… I mean it.”

“Just finish that section and get some rest, okay?”

He nodded, though you could already tell by the way his fingers hovered near the keyboard that he’d be typing again the second you turned away.