Mattie trudged up the stairs, almost delirious with the anticipation of at last collapsing into bed. She'd had to work late into the night, two nights in a row. Obviously she was exhausted, but she was even more on edge because it meant she hadn't seen Charlie since the morning before, and felt certain they had unfinished business.
Just as she was about to walk into her room, she heard a strange noise, one that made her pause to listen. She was about to let it go and go to bed when she heard it again. A groan, coming from across the hall, either in pain or frustration. Coming from Charlie's room. She deliberated, then knocked on the door.
She waited, then slowly opened the door. She was surprised to find that the bedside lamp was on, and Charlie sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, brow furrowed and head bent over a large notebook of some kind. She cleared her throat and he looked up with a start.
"Mattie? What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked, placing his pencil in the book and closing it.
"I could ask you the same thing. I was about to go to bed, but it sounded like you were in pain," she teased.
He flapped a hand dismissively, while the other tugged gently at his mop of hair. "I couldn't get a drawing right. It's really annoying," he explained.
Mattie came farther into the room. "Sketch of a crime scene?" she asked doubtfully.
He shrugged.
"May I?" she asked, reaching towards the sketchbook.
He deliberated, before opening it to the page on which he had been working. She noticed the side of his left hand and his fingertips where smeared with graphite. On the page was a minutely detailed picture of a bloom from the garden, with the surrounding greenery recreated in less detail and hints of the house behind. It was masterfully done, and Mattie drank in the artwork before turning her wide eyes to Charlie.
"I didn't know you were an artist. Do you often stay up late perfecting your drawings?"
He leant forward and pointed to one of the petals, so lifelike though rendered in grey, finger tapping the page. "I can't get that last part right. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I might as well do something productive with my time," he shrugged, gently pulling the book from her grasp and placing it on the bedside table.
Mattie looked down at him, slightly dishevelled and downcast, sat in the middle of his bed. He looked vulnerable, almost childlike. He had evidently noticed the smudges on his hands, too, and rubbed at them, not looking up when she perched on the edge of his bed.
"Why can't you sleep?" she probed softly.
He shrugged again, and though his head stayed down while he fiddled with the hem of his pyjamas, she could see his brow furrow.
"Just… a lot going on. With the boss and everything, and my brother Tom is sick," he admitted, trying to sound casual.
Mattie nodded in understanding. "What's wrong with him?" she asked gently.
His eyes flicked up to hers, then back down to his lap. "Not sure exactly. Mum's taking him to the doctor again tomorrow. He'll be fine, probably, but his fever's pretty bad, and he keeps asking for me…" his voice petered out and he was seemingly lost in thought.
Mattie leant forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're right, I'm sure he'll recover. Kids are stronger than people think," she encouraged. "Try to sleep, alright?"
He gave her a small but grateful smile and a nod, and she left to get ready for bed, not quite closing the door behind her.
A quarter of an hour later, she decided to check on Charlie once more before going to sleep. Nudging the door open as quietly as the old hinges permitted, she peeped into the room.
Charlie hadn't moved, aside from hunching over his sketchbook again, hand darting deftly over the page. His hair fell forward on his forehead, remaining there as he glanced up to see the source of the noise. He looked faintly guilty when she gave him a disapproving look. He did not, however, put down the pencil.
She raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" she asked pointedly.
"Drawing. I had an idea," he explained innocently.
She stepped into the room, cocking her hip as she stared him down. "I meant, why aren't you sleeping?" she clarified.
He smiled cheekily, finally setting his pencil down. "It's easier said than done, you know. Besides, some ideas can't wait," he shrugged.
"Mm hm. And what was this fantastic idea then?"
He opened his mouth to answer, then close it and looked away, looking almost bashful.
"Are you… blushing? Maybe I don't want to know," she laughed.
He seemed to weigh his words, speaking slowly. "I thought that… I suppose I'd like to… When you were sitting here before, the lighting on your face was really interesting. It made me think I could draw you," he managed.
Mattie blinked at him. She'd never seen him struggle for words that much. She was flattered, really. Not only did he have a secret talent that he was willing to show her, but he wanted to draw her.
"Well, that definitely sounds interesting. Just maybe not this late at night. Or should I say early in the morning?" she responded, recovering from her surprise.
He sighed, but closed his book and climbed off the bed. Putting his drawing supplies on his desk, he gave her a resigned look. "There. I'll stop for the night," he surrendered.
She grinned triumphantly. "Glad to hear it. If I leave, are you definitely going to go to sleep?" she asked shrewdly.
He smiled. "I can't promise that, but I will try. How are you, by the way?" he replied, seriousness edging back into his expression.
"I was fine last night, after you woke me up. I don't think I'm magically cured though," she sighed, giving a small shrug.
He assessed her for a moment. "You can sleep here tonight, if you want. If company helps you, I don't mind," he offered.
She blinked. "Are you sure?" she hesitated. She wanted to take him up om his generosity, but he'd already been so kind to her.
"Yeah, sure," he laughed. "Besides, with you here I'll be to scared to give in to the temptation to get my sketchbook out again. As long as you promise to sit for me later, it's a win-win, the way I see it."
She gave a little laugh as she shook the hand he held out to seal their bargain.

The first thing that came to Mattie was a warmth that was somewhat familiar to her. The smell of Charlie, next, and the quiet noises of the man himself.
She was curled into him more than the day before, her head on the centre of his chest and a leg between his. She supposed she should worry about waking him, how to get out this position without awkwardness, Jean happening upon them, any number of things. But she decided to just let them go. She had the day off, and presumably Charlie didn't have to be anywhere soon or he wouldn't still be lying beneath her.
So she relished the toasty warmth of the bed, the soothing weight of the covers and Charlie's hands on her back. She committed the feeling of Charlie sleeping under her to memory, knowing it would help calm her when she was next plagued by nightmares and he wasn't available in the flesh.
Mattie dozed for an hour or so before Charlie started waking up. He stretched and flexed a bit as he came to, eyes fluttering open when he registered her presence.
She lifted her head to meet his gaze. "Good morning," she murmured pleasantly.
He returned her smile. "Morning. You don't have a shift this morning, do you? It's my day off, I should've asked before," he said, letting her go and stretching more.
She rolled off and sat up. "I'm off today as well. And I would've mentioned it had I needed to get up early," she reassured him.
He got out of bed fluidly and strode to his drawers, rummaging through them as he spoke. "Ah, good. If you're free after breakfast, how about making good on your promise?" he proposed.
She laughed a little nervously in reply. "Well, I don't see why not," she agreed, biting her lip.
He threw a happy smile over his shoulder as he left the room in the direction of the bathroom.