Here some fluff maybe some smut lol enjoy!

🕓 | Scene: Hotel, Lisbon — 11:03 PM

“This can’t be right,” Carmen says, steady but tight, tapping her gloved fingers once—lightly—on the hotel desk. The receptionist winces politely. “I’m sorry, señorita. We’re fully booked tonight. We had the room listed as a single queen.”

“We reserved two beds.”

“I understand. But there’s no other availability in the building. Or within our partner system.”

You glance over your shoulder at Zack and Ivy, already halfway to the elevator with Shadowsan trailing behind, completely unbothered by your shared room drama. Zack shoots you both a grin. “Sleep tight, you two!”

“Call if someone gets murdered,” Ivy adds, deadpan, tapping the elevator button. The doors close. You sigh. Carmen is still trying—very calmly—to will the clerk into producing an extra bed from thin air.

“Just one cot,” she says. “A folding chair. Literally anything horizontal.” The clerk shakes her head with the kind of customer-service smile that means this is not her problem.

Scene: Hotel, Lisbon — 11:39 PM

Carmen had fallen asleep faster than you expected. One moment she was muttering about poor hotel logistics and the next, her body had simply... stopped. Exhaustion hit her like gravity, pulling her down onto the mattress before she even made it under the covers. She barely tugged the blanket over her hip, lying in the same loose tank top and leggings she wore on the flight, hair damp from a rushed shower. Her breathing deepened quickly.

You’d stayed still for a long while. Not quite tired. Just aware—of the one bed, of the space between your bodies, of the pulse hammering beneath your ribs. The buzz of the day still clung to your skin, made louder by the quiet. You shifted on your side, letting your gaze trace the slow rise and fall of her back, the way her hand twitched slightly near her ribs in sleep.

You weren’t supposed to notice these things. Not like this. But it was late, and soft lighting made everything feel honest. Eventually, unable to resist the ache in your chest, you scooted closer. Inch by inch, careful not to wake her. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, but she didn’t stir.

You pressed your forehead gently to the space between her shoulder blades, feeling the warmth of her body bleed into yours. One hand crept forward, tentative, before settling lightly across her waist. You hesitated... then let your body follow through, easing yourself forward until you were spooning her. Not heavy. Not pressing. Just close. Steady. There.

She murmured something indecipherable in her sleep—a half-sigh, half-word—but didn’t move away. In fact, her fingers, resting near her chest, curled back toward you... and found your hand under the blankets. Her grip was loose. Gentle. But sure. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. The room was full of silence that felt safe.

Scene: Hotel Room, Lisbon — 5:47 AM

By the time the first light of morning peeked through the Lisbon skyline, Carmen stirred. Not in a mission-alert way. Just slow—her eyes fluttering open to the soft hum of waking traffic outside. The bed was warm, and your body was still draped lightly over hers, your forehead nestled just below her collarbone, breaths soft and steady against her skin.

She blinked once, then again. Her hand—still tangled with yours—shifted slightly, and her fingers resumed those slow, absentminded circles along the back of your knuckles. A small smile crept onto her lips.

You were still asleep. She could feel it in the way you breathed, the way your fingers never tightened or flinched. You looked peaceful. Trusting. And something in her chest tugged at the sight of it.

She didn’t move. She didn’t wake you, or pull away, or make a joke like she normally would. She just watched the morning unfold with you against her, the blanket pulled halfway up your back, her hand still wrapped gently around yours.