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He wants to.

It sits in my chest, heavier than handcuffs. I burrow against him for a moment before daring to peek up again. “You… you’re not mad?”

He arches a brow. “At what? That you want to be wanted?”

I don’t answer, but I don’t look away, and he lets my silence hang in the air without pressing me. There’s a comfort in the quiet, and for a long moment, we just stay there, wrapped up in each other and the blankets.

At some point he reaches down to rescue Rabbit and tucks the stuffed animal into the crook of my arm. He’s so careful with it, as if it’s made of glass, and I clutch it tight, feeling ridiculous and safe all at once.

“I was thinking we could spend the day today trying some different things,” Adrien says. “Things that might make you feel little.”

I stare at him, still a bit unsure about that word.

Little.

It’s not bad, maybe not even embarrassing in the same way it was yesterday, when he first explained it while my brain was already halfway dissolved into warmth and touch and the overwhelming certainty that someone finally wanted to take care of me. In daylight, though, with Adrien’s hair messy from sleep and Rabbit tucked beneath my arm and absolutely nothing sexual happening between us, little feels more real.

Like something I might actually have to decide whether I am.

“What kind of things?” I ask, chewing at my lip.

The corner of Adrien’s mouth twitches, a faint, knowing crease appearing beside it. “That nervous already?”

“No.” The word comes out too quickly, too thin.

He raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“A little,” I admit.

“Good thing that’s the theme of the day.”

I scrunch my nose at him, and his smile widens, crinkling the skin around his eyes.

“I bought a few things for you to try,” he continues. “Nothing you have to use, nothing you have to like, and nothing you’re agreeing to permanently just because you try it once.”

That helps more than I expect.

“What things though?”

“You’ll see,” he answers.

“That sounds ominous…”

“It really isn’t.”

I hug Rabbit tighter. “You kidnapped me.”

He doesn’t even blink. “Fair point.” He says it so casually, so easily. Adrien shifts out from beneath the blanket, the mattress groaning softly as he stands. He looks down at me, his shadow falling across my legs. “Bathroom first?”

I nod, my throat suddenly dry.

“And then breakfast.”

My stomach answers for me with an embarrassingly loud, prolonged growl that seems to echo in the quiet room.

Adrien’s gaze drops pointedly toward my midsection.

I press my hand flat over my stomach, as if I could silence it. “Sorry…”