It's late.
It's late and he still hasn't come to bed.
She finds him at the kitchen table, hunched over a stack of paperwork. The candle that provides a dim, shadowy light is drippy. A puddle of melted wax sits at its base.
She touches him lightly on the shoulder. "Can I get you anything?"
"Some tea would be nice." He doesn't look up.
She busies herself about the stove. He doesn't pay attention to her doings. So when she places a bowl of steaming broth in front of him, he looks up in surprise.
"I asked for tea."
"And I got you tea." She places a cup next to his bowl.
"I didn't ask for soup."
"Levi." She bends down and gently places a hand against his cheek. "You're neglecting yourself again. I haven't seen you eat all day, and the shadows under your eyes are darker than your hair."
He leans into her hand slightly, taking comfort in its presence but also feeling chastised. He avoids looking back at her, at those big eyes with those eyebrows arched in concern above them.
She strokes his cheek with her thumb. "Eat the soup. It's one of Brigitte's recipes, good and hearty. And the tea is chamomile to help you sleep." She stands and walks to his other side, gathering up the papers, careful not to disturb the order. "After you finish your supper, come straight to bed. Paperwork can wait. And to make sure you're not tempted, I'm taking these upstairs with me."
All the papers under one arm, she bends down and kisses him on the head.
"Straight to bed, Levi. I will notice if you don't come." He nods.
After she leaves, he picks up a spoonful and blows on it. He takes a bite. He has to admit it is tasty, and suddenly he remembers how hungry he is, his stomach clenching.
He sets the empty dishes in the sink to be dealt with later. He knows that's what she would tell him to do, even though he'd rather wash them immediately.
When he enters their room, she's already asleep. It is late, after all. He walks past her to his side, then notices the stack of papers on the desk.
Those really need to get done.
Just as he's reaching for them, a quiet but alert voice speaks.
"What are you doing, Levi?"
He flinches, scolded. Turning to face her, he calmly replies, "Just getting undressed."
She raises one eyebrow, not buying it in the least but willing to let it slide. She watches as he follows through on his lie.
When he crawls in next to her, she slowly brushes a strand of his hair out of his eyes. Smiling, she whispers, "Goodnight, Levi."
He means to tell her goodnight back, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is a small, innocent yawn. How heavy his eyelids are! With each blink, they open a little less, and soon they are closed and she can hear him breathing softly.
Feeling her own eyes start to droop, she settles deeper into her pillow.
"Sleep well."