The first time she woke up next to him, she rolled herself awake as her head met with the cold, packed earth beneath them. She was nose to nose with him, the softening of his features in sleep enough to make her breath catch in her throat and her heart to begin to pound against her ribcage. She didn't know at what point of the night they had unconsciously sought each other out - they had gone to sleep the previous evening in their own blankets, lying side by side.
Now the blankets had become intertwined, as had his fingers with her hair, her head resting just below the arm he had thrown over her at some point during the night. Her palm was lying flat against his chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing making her smile softly to herself, as she thought of this man, notoriously known as a killing machine, innocent as a child in this moment.
Her heart shudders in her chest, and she decides to throw caution to the wind, before allowing herself to close the short distance between them and press a tentative kiss to his cheek.
As he stirs, because of course he was going to, the man is the lightest sleeper left amongst humanity, she jerks back, taking her palm from his chest, and shutting her eyes hastily, her heart hammering in her throat.
Closing her eyes and pretending to sleep, she feels him rub his eyes with his knuckles and no doubt notice he is sheltering her with his arm, as her body slumps close to his.
She has to hide her smile as he shuffles closer.
