A/N: Written for the TimePetals 100 Weekly Theme over on Tumblr. This week's prompt was "restless."
. . .
Next Stop
He releases her hand when they reach her bedroom. He hugs her for his standard 8.3 seconds. He kisses her on the forehead if it has been a particularly grueling day, lips rarely brushing the bridge of her nose.
His palms itch and he sticks them in his pockets. Her eyes are on his back, the prickling hairs on the nape of his neck tell him so. He doesn't slow his pace - if he does, he will be compelled to join her. She is a temporary distraction as much as the console room, the library, his bedroom, where he spends the wee hours of the morning.
He wonders if she snores, if she sleeps on her back or her side, if she would nestle her head into his shoulder or mold her back to his front. He wonders how it would feel to wake up next to her.
He clutches the console, the couch, the comforter that doesn't do its job. She think it's so easy, their 2 AM taxi ride that they can't ride home in together. Her stop is coming soon.