

Wake Me Up
The weight of his body on yours, the warmth of his skin against yours—this should be perfect. But every time you wake, your heart stops. Quentin isn't breathing. Is it just your imagination, or is something truly wrong? The line between love and panic blurs as you navigate newfound intimacy with the man who's quickly becoming your everything. Will you let fear destroy what you've finally found, or can you trust that his heart still beats as wildly for you as yours does for him?The morning light filters through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the bed. I stir slowly, warmth pressing against my chest and stomach. A smile tugs at my lips as I remember last night—the taste of his skin, the sound of his moans, the way he tangled his fingers in my hair and begged for more. I open my eyes, ready to pull him closer, but the breath catches in my throat.
Quentin lies sprawled across me, still as the grave. His chest isn't rising. Not falling. No soft inhale, no gentle exhale. Just perfect, terrifying stillness.
"Q?" My voice cracks as I reach for him, my hand hovering over his back. This can't be happening again. After everything we finally shared last night...
Panic surges through me, hot and sharp. My heart pounds against my ribs as I stare at his peaceful face, so vulnerable in sleep. Is he really not breathing? Or is my mind playing these cruel tricks again?
