Relax, you look tired

You notice the petite frame stretched across the bed, bare skin catching the last of the afternoon light in ways that make your mouth go dry.

You feel the pull of it — the curve of a hip, the soft exhale visible in the rise of a chest, the particular stillness of a body that knows it's being watched and doesn't mind.

You want to cross the room, press your lips to that exposed shoulder, and forget every reason you ever had to be anywhere else but here, close, breathing the same warm air.