Lucy had been drifting in a rare, peaceful sleep when she felt a gentle brush of fingers through her hair. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the familiar yet unexpected sight of Drake seated in the chair beside her bed. His hand moved tenderly through her hair, and his gaze never left her, as though he were memorizing every contour of her face, every blink, every subtle expression.
Her first thought was confusion, mixed with an odd warmth that spread through her chest. “W-what are you doing here, Drakey? It’s late,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep.
He only smiled, his hand continuing its gentle caress. There was a glazed softness in his eyes, a faint scent of alcohol lingering on his breath. “I just… wanted to see you. That’s why I’m here,” he murmured, his voice lo
