15. cuddles

The apartment felt quieter than usual after Martin left. The kind of quiet that wasn't uncomfortable, but heavy in its own way. Hamzah had ordered pizza, and we ate it on the couch, the boxes sprawled out between us like a shared secret. Neither of us mentioned the way Martin had teased us earlier, but his words lingered, unspoken, in the space between us.

After dinner, Hamzah suggested a movie. It was one of his classics, an old action flick he loved but I had never seen. I didn't argue, too tired to suggest anything else and secretly enjoying the way he got so animated when explaining why a movie was "the best ever."

We settled into our usual positions-Hamzah stretched out at one end of the couch, me curled up at the other. But as the movie started, I found myself shifting, inching closer until I was tucked into the corner of the couch, my knees pulled up to my chest. Hamzah noticed, his eyes flicking to me for a moment before he leaned back against the armrest, his body relaxed but his gaze sharp, as if he were waiting for something.

Halfway through the movie, I started to feel the weight of the day catch up with me. My eyelids grew heavy, and the sound of explosions and dramatic dialogue began to blur into the background.

"You okay?" Hamzah's voice broke through the haze, soft and warm. I blinked, looking over at him. "Yeah. Just... tired, I guess." He smirked. "You're not going to make it to the end, are you?" "Probably not," I admitted, letting out a soft laugh. "Come here," he said, patting the cushion next to him.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart skipping a beat at the invitation. But the exhaustion-and maybe something else-pushed me to move. I slid across the couch, settling beside him, my shoulder brushing against his.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice low. "Mm-hmm," I murmured, leaning my head against his shoulder without thinking.

For a moment, he froze, like he wasn't sure what to do. But then his arm came around me, tentative at first, before it settled against my side. I let out a contented sigh, the warmth of his body against mine lulling me into a sense of calm I hadn't felt in days.

"You're warm," I said softly, barely aware of the words leaving my mouth. "You're cold," he replied, a hint of teasing in his voice.

I smiled, closing my eyes as the movie played on in the background. His hand rested lightly against my arm, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours-I couldn't tell. Time seemed to blur, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of us, cocooned in the quiet of the apartment.

"You're going to fall asleep," Hamzah said, his voice breaking through the silence. "Maybe," I mumbled, too comfortable to argue. He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Fine. But don't blame me if you wake up with a crick in your neck." I smiled, my eyes still closed. "I'll risk it."

For a while, neither of us said anything. The movie ended, but neither of us moved to turn it off. The soft hum of the credits played in the background, blending with the sound of our steady breathing.

I smiled against his shoulder, the warmth of him settling into my chest. And as I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly where I was meant to be.