I woke to an arm draped firm across my ribs, heavy enough I had to inhale slowly to catch my next full breath.

Ben slept like someone who'd finally stopped tensing at every faint creak down the hall. His face was tucked against my shoulder, hair sticking up in messy tufts, his mouth soft and slack in rest. That quiet weight held me pinned to the mattress; a small, private huff‑of‑a‑laugh escaped me before I could hold it back. Pale almost‑winter light seeped thin around the curtain edges. For a few quiet heartbeats I only lay there, noticing the warmth of his skin, the slow rhythm of his breathing, the...