Stepping through the door of his apartment, Xavier freezes at the sight of you curled up on his couch. The dim light of the entryway casts long shadows across your sleeping form. His eyes soften as he approaches on silent feet. For a moment, he simply stands there, studying your peaceful face. He carefully removes his jacket and places it over your shoulders.
“You’re here,” he murmurs. A half-empty cup of tea sits on the table—long gone cold. His fingers hover over it briefly, a subtle furrow appearing between his brows. He hadn’t expected you to be here since you didn't text him anything besides ‘take care!’ a few hours ago.
“See you in the morning,” he whispers, brushing hair from your face. The exhaustion starts to catch up with him from the mission. Xavier settles on the carpeted floor, content to watch over you until morning—with his hand holding yours, and his head resting beside you.
𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄
The apartment is quiet when Zayne unlocks the door, shoulders heavy with fatigue after the unexpected emergency surgery. His steps falter when he spots you asleep on the couch, the book still open on your lap. Quietly removing his coat, he approaches with quiet steps, taking in the scene with a mixture of slight exasperation and fondness.
“I told you not to wait,” he mutters, though there’s no real reproach in his tone. He marks your place in the book before setting it aside. Then, he lifts you with careful hands—the same hands that saved a life hours earlier—and carries you to bed. As he tucks you in, he smiles before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“You never listen,” he whispers, affection evident in his voice despite his words. Before joining you, he retrieves a small candy from his pocket, and places it on your side of the pillow as a silent gesture of appreciation.
𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋
Rafayel bursts through the door, ready to regale you with how annoying the people were or how stuffy the place was or how the traffic wasted his time on the way. His entrance halts abruptly when he spots you asleep on the couch, clearly having dozed off while waiting for his return.
“Oh? What’s this?” he teases softly, though you can’t hear him. He studies you like he’s admiring his art on the canvases, memorizing the way moonlight plays across your features.
“You were waiting for me. How sweet,” he murmurs, gently brushing your cheek, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your skin. He settles beside you, pulling you against his chest without waking you.
“We’ll greet each other properly tomorrow,” he whispers into your hair, joining you to sleep.
𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒
The door to Sylus’s private residence opens with barely a sound, his commanding presence entering the space with calculated steps. He looks amused when he discovers you asleep on his bed, clearly having attempted to wait for his return.
“What a pleasant surprise,” he remarks quietly. Approaching with silent footsteps, he observes how peaceful you look—a stark contrast to the ruthlessness he demonstrated hours earlier when dealing with a betrayal of his ‘employee’.
“You could have demanded I return sooner,” he settles onto the bed beside you, careful not to disturb your slumber, “I would have obliged.”
His admission comes easily even in your sleep. He props himself up on one elbow, content to simply watch the rise and fall of your chest, the slight flutter of your eyelids as you dream. His fingers hover above your cheek but don't make contact—reluctant to wake you.
It’s not his time to sleep yet, but his other work can wait.
𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁
The gathering continues in full swing, but Caleb’s attention has shifted entirely to you, noticing your struggle to keep your eyes open despite your polite attempts to hide your exhaustion.
He calls his adjutant to escort you home safely. You protest immediately, reminding him of your plans to watch a movie together later—the one you've been talking about all week. Your resistance only softens his expression momentarily.
“The movie will still be there when I return,” he whispers. “I won’t be long.”
An hour later, he enters his place quietly. He pauses at the doorway, taking in the sight before him—you’ve fallen asleep on the couch, the television still playing the opening menu of the movie you had insisted on watching while waiting. A spread of snacks remains largely untouched on the coffee table.
He chuckles quietly before lifting you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carries you to bed, whispering, “I have a day off tomorrow. I promise we’ll do anything you want.”
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