The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the window and the rhythmic tapping of Bang Chan’s fingers on his laptop. You were curled up on the couch, blanket half-draped over you, eyes barely staying open as you watched him work across the room. It was past midnight, but time always slipped away when you were with him. “You should sleep,” he said softly, not looking up. His voice, low and warm, wrapped around you like the blanket never could. “You’ve been nodding off for the past ten minutes.” You smiled sleepily. “I don’t want to. Not yet.” That made him pause. His hands stilled, and he finally turned to you, eyes filled with something quiet and unspoken. He looked tired too—exhausted, even—but when he looked at you, it was like none of that mattered. “You okay?” he asked. You nodded. “I just like being here… with you.” A small, breathless laugh left him, and he closed his laptop. “You always say stuff like that right when I’m about to focus again.” “Maybe I do it on purpose.” He stood up, crossing the room in just a few steps, and sank onto the couch beside you. You didn’t hesitate to lean into him, your head finding that familiar spot on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around you instantly, f!ngers brushing up and d0wn your @rm. “You know,” he murmur3d, resting his chin lightly on your head, “every time you’re here, it feels easier to breathe.” You blinked up at him, h3@rt thudding quietly. “Even when everything’s chaotic… when the deadlines are too much, when the pressure gets to me,” he continued, voice barely louder than a whisper now, “just having you near makes it all… manageable.” The room fell silent for a second, save for the slow beat of both your h3@rts and the distant noise of the world outside. You whispered, “Then I’ll stay. As long as you need me to.” Chan looked down at you, eyes s0fter than you’d ever seen. “Stay with me a little longer?” he asked, barely audible. You smiled, reaching up to brush his h@!r away from his face. “Always.”
