"You've usually disappeared by now," he commented not looking up from the omelet he was making.
Ziva leaned against the doorframe, his t-shirt skimming her thighs. "Would you like me to go?"
"I'd like you to stay."
She nodded, coming deeper into the room. "I heard you singing."
That made him turn, looking at her over his shoulder. "Is that why you're still here?"
"Would it be strange if I said yes?"
Ed thought about it for a moment before smiling slowly. "Not really."
She moved closer, bolstered by that smile. His chest was bare, and as she leaned back against the counter, she reached out. Her fingers trailed over his dark skin, pausing at each blemish.
"You have your own, you know," he smirked.
"They are different than yours."
Ed chuckled. "Everyone's scars are different."
She nodded. "Do they hurt?"
The smile faded, but his eyes remained kind despite the ghosts that haunted them.
"Only on bad nights," he said quietly.
It was the first time anyone had given her an answer that made sense.
"Perhaps, on those nights…it would be better to not be alone."
His hand came up, pressing hers more firmly against his chest.
"I was thinking the same thing."