Not the heavy, suffocating kind of quiet—just the soft, settled stillness of a room at rest. The curtains glowed faintly at the edges, streetlight bleeding through in thin silver lines. Outside, the city had long since wound down to a low, distant murmur. Inside, the only sound was the slow rhythm of breathing and the faint rustle of blankets.

Katsuki lay behind Y/n, one arm slung over her waist, his front pressed flush against her back. His face was buried against the curve of her neck, his breath warm and steady against her skin.

He'd been awake for a while now.

His fingers twitched against the fabric of her shirt. Then stilled. Then twitched again, like his body couldn't decide whether to pull her closer or let go. His jaw worked in the dark, teeth grinding faintly before he forced himself to stop.