(Keifer's POV)
She was still half asleep.
Eyes barely open.
Holding the glass like it weighed something.
I didn't say anything more.
Just got up—
went back to the kitchen—
and brought the plate.
Set it in front of her.
"Eat."
She looked at it.
Then at me.
"…I'm sleepy."
"I know."
"Later?"
"No."
A small pause.
She blinked slowly.
Like she was deciding—
fight or give up.
Tonight—
she didn't have the energy to fight.
She picked up the spoon.
Slow.
Took a bite.
Chewed quietly.
I sat across from her again.
Didn't rush her.
Didn't speak.
Just watched.
Making sure she actually ate—
not just pretended.
Second bite.
Then third.
Better.
Her shoulders dropped slightly.
Tension easing.
Not fully—
but enough.
"You should've eaten earlier," I said.
Not harsh.
Just… there.
She didn't reply.
Just kept eating.
Too tired to argue.
Good.
After a few minutes—
she stopped.
Not finished—
but enough for now.
"I can't," she said softly.
I looked at the plate.
Then at her.
She wasn't refusing.
Just… done.
"Fine."
I took the plate away.
Didn't force more.
Because right now—
this was already progress.
I placed it aside.
Came back to her.
She was sitting there—
eyes half closed again.
Head slightly tilted.
Like she would fall asleep sitting.
"Come," I said.
She didn't react immediately.
"Jay."
She blinked.
Slow.
"…hmm?"
"Sleep."
A pause.
Then a small nod.
No arguments.
No excuses.
Just quiet agreement.
I stood.
Held my hand out.
She looked at it for a second—
then placed hers in mine.
Loose grip.
Warm.
I pulled her up gently.
She stood—
but leaned slightly.
Balance off.
Tired.
I didn't comment.
Just kept holding her hand.
Led her out of the dining area.
Lights dim behind us.
House quiet again.
Steps slow.
Unrushed.
Up the stairs.
Down the hallway.
To the room.
I opened the door.
Let her go in first.
She walked straight to the bed—
didn't even look around—
just sat down.
Then slowly—
lay back.
Like her body finally gave up.
I closed the door quietly.
Turned off the main light.
Only the dim lamp left.
Soft.
Calm.
I walked to the bed.
She had already curled slightly—
facing one side.
Eyes closed.
But not fully asleep yet.
I lay down beside her.
Close.
Not touching immediately.
Just there.
Then—
I moved.
One arm around her.
Pulled her gently closer.
She didn't resist.
Didn't hesitate.
Just moved into it.
Automatically.
Like she knew—
this was where she could finally stop.
Her head rested against my chest.
My hand moved to the back of her head.
Fingers sliding lightly through her hair.
Slow.
Steady.
Calming.
Her hand—
found my shirt.
Held it.
Loose.
But there.
"Sleep, baby," I said quietly.
Barely above a whisper.
She didn't reply.
Just breathed.
Slower now.
Even.
Finally relaxed.
I tightened my hold slightly.
Not too much.
Just enough.
To make sure—
she stayed right there.
Safe.
Still.
Not running.
Not pushing.
Just—
resting.
And within minutes—
she was gone.
Proper sleep this time.
Not forced.
Not broken.
I stayed awake a little longer.
Just to be sure.
That she didn't wake up again.
Didn't try to move.
Didn't try to go back.
But she didn't.
For once—
she let go.
And I made sure—
(Keifer's POV)
Morning wasn't rushed.
But it wasn't relaxed either.
She was up—
properly this time.
Not dragging herself.
Not half asleep.
Just… quieter.
More aware.
She sat at the dining table again—
book open.
But this time—
no flipping pages.
No rushing.
Just reading.
One line at a time.
Better.
I stood in the kitchen—
watching from a distance.
Not obvious.
Just enough.
She paused.
Actually paused.
Looked at the page—
thinking.
Not forcing.
That alone—
was improvement.
I made something simple.
Didn't ask.
Didn't announce.
Just brought the plate—
and placed it beside her.
"Eat."
She looked at it.
Then at me.
"…I just started."
"And you'll continue after."
"I'm not that hungry."
"You are."
A small pause.
She didn't argue much this time.
Just sighed softly—
picked up the spoon.
Took a bite.
Slow.
Still reading between bites.
I leaned against the chair beside her.
"Read it again."
She looked up.
"I did."
"Then say it."
She frowned slightly—
but repeated it.
Not perfect.
Missed a part.
I raised a brow.
She stopped.
"…okay fine."
Turned back—
read again.
This time—
better.
Clear.
She looked at me again.
I nodded once.
"That's how you do it."
No long lecture.
Just that.
She didn't smile—
but I saw it.
That small shift.
Less panic.
More focus.
(Jay's POV)
It felt… different.
Same table.
Same books.
Same pressure somewhere in the background.
But—
not the same feeling.
I wasn't rushing.
And that—
felt strange.
Like I was doing something wrong.
But also—
not wrong.
Just… slower.
I read the same line twice.
Then once more.
And this time—
it actually stayed.
Not like before.
Not like I had to force it in.
I took another bite absentmindedly.
Didn't even realize I was eating—
until he said—
"Finish it."
I looked down.
Half the plate gone.
"…oh."
He didn't react.
Of course.
He already knew.
I rolled my eyes slightly—
but finished it.
Not because I wanted to—
but because arguing felt unnecessary now.
I put the spoon down.
Went back to the book.
Turned the page—
then stopped.
Didn't rush.
Didn't flip again.
Just…
read.
Properly.
After a few minutes—
I leaned back slightly.
Exhaled.
"…this is slower."
He looked at me.
"Yes."
"I feel like I'm wasting time."
"You're not."
"It feels like it."
"That's because you're used to rushing."
I made a face.
"…I was efficient."
"You were panicking."
I didn't reply.
Because—
that wasn't fully wrong.
I looked back at the book.
"…but this works better."
There.
I said it.
He didn't smile.
Didn't react much.
Just—
"Good."
That was it.
But somehow—
that felt like enough.
I leaned forward again—
continued reading.
More focused.
Less pressure.
Still nervous—
but not overwhelmed.
After a while—
I didn't even realize—
my pace had become steady.
Natural.
Not forced.
And for the first time—
studying didn't feel like running.
It felt like—
understanding.
(Keifer's POV)
She was calmer.
Not completely—
but enough.
Pages weren't flying anymore.
She wasn't skipping.
She wasn't forcing.
Better.
I picked up my own book again.
Started studying.
But I still kept track.
Time.
Her posture.
Her focus.
After some time—
I closed my book.
"Break."
She didn't look up.
"No."
"Yes."
"I just started—"
"You've been at it for an hour."
She paused.
Actually checked the time.
"…oh."
"Break."
She sighed.
Leaned back.
Not arguing much.
Again—
progress.
I stood up.
"Water."
"I can take it—"
"I know."
I still got it.
Placed it in front of her.
She took it quietly.
Drank.
No complaints.
No resistance.
And that told me everything.
She wasn't just slowing down.
She was learning how to stop.
And that—
mattered more than anything else right now.