The hallway was quiet.
Michelle held her phone in her hand and stood in front of Steve's door. Her fingers nervously played with the edge of her sleeve—anxious, but strangely calm. She knew she wanted to be here. She knew why. The day had been long, overwhelming—and the only thing she craved was to fall asleep next to him. To feel his breath. His presence.
The door opened before she could knock.
Steve smiled. "I had a feeling you'd come."
"If you don't mind…"
"Michelle," he said softly. "Your place is here, anytime."
Inside, the room was dim. Just the small bedside lamp was on. The room smelled like him—his tea, clean clothes, comfort.
Steve handed her a soft T-shirt."Here. I know you hate sleeping in jeans."
She smiled. "You watch me way too closely."
"Better too much than not enough."
Michelle changed in the bathroom, slipping into the oversized shirt—it hung a little past her thighs, and somehow, that made it even more perfect. When she came back, Steve was already under the blanket, scooting to make space for her.
Without a word, she crawled in next to him. His arm instinctively wrapped around her waist. Her head rested on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat. Steady. Quiet.
Safe.
They didn't speak for a while. Their breathing slowly synced.
Then Steve whispered:"You know I could hold you like this every night?"
Michelle nodded against his chest. "I know."
"And it would still feel strange—in the most beautiful way."
She smiled.
"I've never felt like this before," she admitted. "Like… this is the place. This is the person."
Steve kissed the top of her head."Then we feel exactly the same."
Later that night, just as they were both drifting off, Michelle whispered:
"I'm going to stay. Even if I toss and turn. Even if I hog the blanket."
Steve chuckled softly."Stay. You can kick me in the ribs. I'm not going anywhere."
And so they lay there.Two people who used to wonder where they belonged—
And tonight,they did.