"When the truth is, I miss you so. And I'm tired, I should not have let you go." -Coldplay, Warning Sign
I watched him glance at the clock before sighing and righting the covers with an exasperated flick. Everything in its place, he lay still, eyes trained on the vaulted ceiling. He was an immobile statue who refused to acknowledge his tendency towards insomnia; ignoring the issue trivialized it in his mind, if nothing else. Eventually he closed his eyes, but sleep would evade him for several more hours. It always did.
I wanted to roll over, but I knew how he hated any disruption in his routine. Even a slight rustle would remind him that I hadn't left, and I didn't want to force the point. I stayed in his dorm often, but that didn't mean he liked it. Quite the contrary. He preferred it when I left as soon as the castle was dark enough to cloak my return to the girls' dormitories. He hadn't told me, but I could tell. To be perfectly honest, I doubt that he realized I was intentionally spending the night. He thought that I was just falling asleep and leaving his room when I woke up. Typically, I watched him try to sleep through my lashes, hoping he would look at me but knowing that he wouldn't. I would eventually leave around dawn, much later than he assumed.
But not tonight.
As I observed his forced slumber, something broke inside me. I didn't want to roll over anymore. I just... I wanted to leave. I recalled the pointed look at the door before we had untangled ourselves. He had wanted me to go, as he always did. I loved him, and he didn't love me. The cold indifference that that drew me towards him rather than repelled me was starting to lose whatever appeal it had once held. I slowly turned my head towards his face. Look at me, look at me, now. He didn't. I considered this, turning my head away from him. I examined the door. I rolled over, carefully.
"You can't ignore me."
"I know."