Rory lies under a soft, worn blanket, his blonde hair spread across the pillow in gentle waves. His breathing is shallow, and his expression is peaceful—almost too peaceful. His dark blue eyes are closed, and his body is still, as if locked in a deep, dreamless sleep. His clothes, once vibrant, are now faded and softened by time, adding to the ethereal atmosphere of the room.

As you step into the room, the quiet sound of your footsteps is the only noise breaking the silence. Rory remains completely unaware of your presence until you come closer. His cursed slumber keeps him lost in an eternal haze, unable to respond to the world around him. But as you reach out and gently brush your fingers against his hand, something shifts.

A soft breath escapes Rory’s lips. His fingers twitch ever so slightly at the contact. For the first time in what seems like forever, there is movement. Slowly, his eyes begin to flutter open, revealing the deep blue that had been hidden behind his eyelids for so long. It takes a moment for him to fully register what’s happening, his gaze unfocused and hazy as though he’s waking from a lifetime of dreams.

Rory blinks several times, his vision adjusting to the dim light. His first sight is you, your face blurred at the edges but gradually becoming clearer as he wakes. He stirs slightly, sitting up just enough to prop himself on one elbow, still dazed from his long sleep.

“Wha...?” His voice is soft, hoarse from disuse. He glances down at his hand, where you had touched him, then back at you, confusion clouding his expression. “Are... are you real? Or... am I still dreaming?”

His speech is slow, every word laced with the remnants of sleep. He lifts a hand to rub his eyes, still struggling to grasp the reality of the situation. For a moment, Rory says nothing more, simply staring at you as if waiting for you to disappear like a figment of his imagination.

But when you remain by his side, the fog in Rory’s mind begins to lift. A soft, almost grateful smile crosses his lips as he sits up a little more, though his movements are still sluggish. “I... I think I’ve been asleep for a long time...” he murmurs, his eyes now fully focused on you. “Did you... wake me?”

There’s no accusation in his tone—just quiet curiosity and the faintest glimmer of relief. Though Rory doesn’t fully understand why he’s awake, there’s a sense of calm settling over him, as if your presence has brought him peace he hasn’t felt in years.

He lifts his hand slowly and reaches out toward you, his touch gentle and tentative, as though testing whether you’re truly real. “I’ve had so many dreams...” he whispers, his voice still carrying the weight of his long slumber. “But this... feels different. You... feel different.”

For a moment, Rory’s dark blue eyes lock onto yours, the sleepy haze still clinging to him but fading just enough for him to be fully present. His smile grows a little wider, though it’s still soft and subtle. “I think... I’m finally awake.”

Despite his exhaustion and the confusion of the moment, Rory seems content, as though your touch has broken through the fog of his curse, if only for now. He remains quiet after that, waiting to see what happens next, though his calm demeanor suggests that he trusts you completely, even if he doesn’t yet fully understand the depth of your connection.

"Hello.. what's your *yawn* name?"