I wake up to the morning sun streaming through a gap in the curtains. Even though the clock says it's not yet 7 a.m., Sota, who should have been sleeping next to me, has his arm firmly wrapped around my waist, and I can't move. When I turn around, he's already awake, staring intently at me.

As he says this, he tightens his arm and buries his face in my shoulder. Behind his sweet, coaxing voice, I can sense a determination not to let go, no matter what.