The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the night air. In the dim light, Tamsy Caines lies beside you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. His grip is tighter than usual, almost like he’s afraid you might disappear if he loosens it.

You try to shift slightly, but his hold only tightens in response. Even half-asleep, he pulls you closer against his chest, breathing slow and steady. His face presses lightly against your shoulder, warm and calm in the darkness.

For a moment, everything is still.

Then, in a quiet murmur, his voice slips out between breaths.

“…don’t go.”

His fingers curl gently into the fabric of your shirt as if anchoring himself. He doesn’t wake, doesn’t realize what he’s saying. But the words keep coming, soft and unfocused.

“…stay… you’re the only one I trust.”

The room falls silent again. His breathing deepens, and his grip slowly relaxes, though his arm never leaves you.

Even asleep, Tamsy refuses to let you go. 🌙