Chapter Text
You wake slowly, the warmth of Steven’s body pressed against yours beneath the sheets, his steady breathing a soft lull in the quiet of the morning. His arm is still draped over your waist, the rise and fall of his chest soothing, grounding. You shift slightly, pressing yourself closer, relishing the way his warmth seeps into you.
Then, his body tenses.
It’s subtle at first—just a flicker of tightness in his muscles, a held breath. You barely register it, still teetering on the edge of sleep. But then he peels away from you, his warmth slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.
You make a small noise of protest, reaching blindly for him, but the exhaustion still clinging to your bones pulls you back under before you can question it.
And then… just like that… he’s gone. No rustling of fabric. No creak of the mattress. No sound of retreating footsteps. Just… gone.
When you wake again, the bed beside you is empty. Cold. A strange unease prickles at the back of your neck as you push yourself up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You glance around the dim apartment, half-expecting to see Steven fumbling around in the kitchen, humming to himself as he makes tea. But there’s nothing.
No movement. No noise. Just the soft hum of the city beyond the window. Your stomach twists.
"Steven?" Your voice wavers slightly, the quiet weight of the apartment pressing in around you. Silence. The unease deepens, settling heavily in your chest.
Steven was never like this in the mornings. He was affectionate, clingy even—warm kisses pressed into your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you, his voice sleepy and content as he tried to convince you to stay in bed just a little longer. He wouldn’t have just left. Would he? After everything that happened the night before, you find it hard to believe he would disappear as if you were just some one-nighter.
Perhaps he’d gone out for coffee? Bring back pastries from that cafe you both loved so much. Your eyes fall to your phone. No texts. No calls. But shit! you were late for work.
You slip out of bed, shivering as your bare feet meet the cool floor. The air feels off—like the energy of the room has shifted, like something has been erased. You grab your clothes, getting dressed quickly, the weight in your gut sinking deeper with each passing second, now not just from Steven’s odd actions but from your own.
By the time you lock the door behind you, your fingers tremble slightly against the key. Something isn’t right. You can feel it.
The unease didn’t fade when you left his apartment. It lingered, curling around your ribs like an unwelcome presence, gnawing at the back of your mind. Steven didn’t just ghost like that. There was always a message or a call or a written note. It’s possible you missed it…
Did he… not like what happened? Maybe you pushed too far… But when you think back to the events of last night, how much he needed you, how his fingers dug against your skin, pulling you closer, wanting to be inside you—
You tried not to let your thoughts spiral, but as the day wore on and your messages remained unanswered, that sinking feeling only grew worse. Your first text was casual.
Hey, everything alright? You weren’t there this morning.
No response. You waited an hour before trying again.
Just checking in. Let me know you're okay.
Still nothing.
By the time the evening rolled around, your worry had twisted into frustration. You called—twice. Both times, it rang until his voicemail picked up.
But what could you do? It wasn’t like him, but maybe… maybe there was an explanation? Maybe he lost his phone. Maybe he had a bad day and just needed space. Your thoughts ran in circles until exhaustion finally dragged you under.
You fell asleep in your apartment that night, on edge and concerned. Sure you didn’t need to be in contact all the time. But you are worried. He’d never just up and leave in the morning like that before. Especially after being so intimate with him.
You heated at the thought of it but it soon turned sour when you thought about how he just left. No way it was because of that… Right?
Then, the next morning, your phone rang, pulling you from your not-so-deep sleep. You barely registered the vibration before you snatched it from your nightstand; Steven’s name flashing across the screen. You answered immediately.
“Steven?”
There was a beat of silence on the other end. Then, “Love.”
Your breath hitched at the sound of his voice; frantic, frazzled, not at all like the warm, easy tone you were used to. “Steven… Where the hell have you been?” you demanded, pushing yourself upright.
“I—” He exhaled sharply, like he was struggling to catch his breath. “I-I don’t know. I—I think I was sleepwalking or something, I—” He cut himself off, inhaling deeply before rushing out, “I woke up in the middle of bloody nowhere… I don’t even know how I got here, I—”
His voice was tight, laced with something you could only describe as fear. Your stomach twisted. Sleepwalking. Of course. You’d nearly forgotten.“Where are you now?”
“Trying to figure that out,” he muttered, his voice distant, like he was looking around. “There’s a—a bus stop nearby. It kinda looks a bit like Mayfair.”
“Steven,” you said carefully, trying to keep your voice steady. “The last time I saw you was the night before yesterday.”
“Oh, God…” He sounded exasperated. “I—I swear, love, I don’t remember a thing! One moment, I was with you, cuddling up for a good night's sleep after…” You heard a soft but quick breath escape. The smile was evident through the phone. “After an amazing, truly brilliant, night with you.” Your lips twitched upward. “and then next thing I know, I’m waking up in the middle of the street—”
Despite the worry gnawing at your chest, a surprised laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. “Well,” you teased, trying to keep things light even though your heart was pounding, “next time, sleepwalk back to bed, yeah?”
Steven let out a breathy chuckle, the sound shaky but there. “Believe me, I’d rather wake up next to you than in the middle of a city I barely recognize.”
You softened, picking at the fuzz of your blanket. “Are you okay?”
A pause. “Yeah. Just… a bit shaken up, honestly.”
“I bet.” You exhaled. “How are you getting back?”
“I’ll figure something out,” he assured you. “Might take me a while, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You’d better,” you murmured, closing your eyes for a moment.
“I miss you,” Steven admitted, voice quieter now, a little more him.
The corners of your lips curled. “I miss you more.”
“Good,” he murmured. “I—um, I’ll keep you posted, yeah?”
“Yeah. Just… be safe, Steven.”
“I will,” he promised. “I’ll see you soon, Love. Promise.” As the call ended, you sat there for a long moment, your phone still clutched in your hand, that lingering unease still whispering in the back of your mind.
Of all the time you had been together. This was the first time his sleep disorder had really occurred. But to be gone for a whole day? That seemed a bit… drastic. Something about it didn’t seem okay.
You had been restless since that phone call—checking your phone constantly, waiting for updates, hoping for some kind of normalcy to return. Steven had messaged you a couple of times over the last few days, reassuring you that he was working things out, that he’d be back soon, that he missed you. And then, finally—he showed up at your door.
You barely registered the knock before you yanked the door open, and there he was. Disheveled, tired, but there. His lips parted, eyes softening at the sight of you. “Hey,”
Before he could say anything else, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into the tightest hug you could manage. Steven let out a surprised breath, his arms hesitating before wrapping around you, holding you just as tightly.
“I missed you,” he mumbled against your hair, guilt evident in his voice. “Gods, I missed you.”
You didn’t let go—not for a long moment, not until the tension in your shoulders finally eased and you could breathe properly again. When you pulled back, you smacked his chest—not hard, just enough to make a point. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, your hands still gripping his shirt as you searched his face. “Are you okay?”
His gaze dropped for a second, then he nodded. “Yeah. I—I had to get things sorted with work. I was a no-call, no-show, and it was a whole mess, but I think I’ve got it figured out now.”
You frowned. “Did they give you a hard time?”
Steven sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Donna had a lot to say about it.”
You huffed. “That woman needs a hobby.” That got a small chuckle out of him, but the exhaustion was still there, the guilt still lingering in his eyes. You took his hand, gently tugging him inside. “Come on.”
Steven followed without protest, letting you lead him to your couch. As soon as he sat down, you curled up beside him, pressing close, resting your head on his shoulder. He melted instantly. His arm slid around you, his body relaxing as he let out a deep breath, the tension he’d been holding onto finally beginning to fade.
“You really missed me, huh?” he murmured, the tiniest hint of amusement in his voice.
“Obviously.” You nudged him. “You had me worried…”
He hummed, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against your arm. “I really am sorry, love. I never meant to worry you.”
“I know,” you murmured, closing your eyes as you soaked in his warmth. “It just all felt a bit weird. Not knowing where you were and hearing you so distraught. I wanted to be there for you.”
Steven exhaled slowly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I won’t let it happen again.”
You wanted to believe that. Needed to. So, for now, you let yourself sink into him, soaking in the moment, letting his presence soothe the worry. “Even if it does. I just want you to be safe.”
And as you let his presence surround you; his smell, his breath, his warmth. Everything felt overwhelming to your senses but you let it cascade in a soft lull of security. You had him back. And whatever it was that had disturbed him or stressed him to have this happen, hopefully it would pass.
But then, the days slowly ticked by.
At first, it was subtle. Barely noticeable. He was probably just busy; caught up at work, exhausted, distracted. It made sense, after the incident. But then you realized… you weren’t hearing from him. Not really.
The only texts you got were short. Routine.
Good morning, love.
Goodnight, sweetheart.
But nothing in between. No midday check-ins. No rambling voice notes about a book he’d picked up or a bizarre customer at the gift shop. No excited messages about some new historical fact he just had to share. No—Hey, do you want to grab dinner?
Nothing. And maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe you were being too sensitive. But every time a message did come through, something about it felt… off.
Like the words weren’t his. Like someone was just going through the motions. And that feeling—that quiet, nagging suspicion—settled deep in your chest.