The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the laptop and the occasional click of the mouse. The glow of the screen cast gentle shadows across the dimly lit living room, where he and she lay tangled together on the sofa. His arm was snug around her, fingers idly tracing little shapes on her shoulder as she rested her head against his chest.

“Alright, let’s see what disaster I’ve created this time,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual, more at ease. His usual chaotic energy was dialed down in moments like these, when it was just the two of them, warm and close.

She hummed, shifting slightly to nuzzle against him. “I doubt it’s a disaster. You’re a genius, remember?”

“A genius?” He tilted his head dramatically, considering her words. “Okay, but like, an unhinged, probably-slightly-sleep-deprived genius.”

She giggled. “That tracks.”

His lips twitched into a grin, but it softened just as quickly. He turned back to his laptop, pressing play. The screen filled with jump cuts of his own face, exaggerated reactions and comedic timing perfectly executed. The familiar blend of humor and fast-paced edits, the same kind of thing that had made his channel take off in the first place.

But as they watched, she could feel the way his breathing slowed, the way his fingers still absentmindedly brushed against her skin. The jokes, the edits—those were his armor, his way of making the world feel less overwhelming.

She tilted her head up to look at him. His dark eyes flicked to hers briefly before he smiled again, smaller this time.

“Deep thoughts?” he asked.

“Just thinking about how talented you are,” she admitted.

He let out a short laugh, but there was a touch of something shy in it. “You’re biased,” he teased.

“Maybe. But I’m right.”

For a moment, he just looked at her. Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“Thanks,” he murmured against her skin.

They went back to watching the video, the warmth between them constant, unwavering. His world was fast, loud, always moving—but in these moments, with her, it slowed down. And that was enough.