The only light in the room leaked in from beneath the closed door and crept up to the foot of the bed, but Kirsty didn't entirely need it. Her eyes had adjusted as much as they could do the dark, and she was wholly focused on the man lying in front of her.

She was supposed to call him Elliot, but even though it was her idea Kirsty couldn't quite make it fit in her head. She said the name easily, and he had managed to get somewhat used to responding to it. Here in the dark though, when there was nobody to pretend to that he just was Elliot and that's all there was to it...

She'd never had a name for him, but he'd never needed one. From the beginning, even when he had frightened her, he had been imprinted into her mind. There was a him-shaped space that she never needed a name to fill - she used the Cenobite Prince or whatever title was needed when trying to explain to somebody else, which was almost never, but to herself he was simply him and that was all she needed. Even his Gash - The Chatterer, Nikoletta, Butterball (his title couldn't really be that) - hadn't had the same effect on her.

"You're not sleeping, Kirsty."

She started a little as she realized he was looking back at her. She couldn't see the blue of his eyes in the dark, but she could tell he was looking at her, only partially asleep himself.

"Neither are you." He reached forward and pushed a strand of hair from her cheek; she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch before opening them again.

"...I can't stop thinking," she said after a moment, glancing at the sheets beneath them. "I don't know what to do." He'd initially offered to stay on the couch, then she had offered to and let him use her bed, and then they'd realized neither one really wanted to sleep on the couch or the bed without the other one. She didn't have a full bed, just an old queen, but she was thankful for the closeness of it, for the way she could just reach forward and find him at an arm's length.

"Neither do I," he said after a moment, and she pulled herself a little closer to him. "I have been trying not to let it disturb me." Elliot was lying on his back, his head turned towards her, and she'd noticed he'd propped his head up with a couple of pillows from the couch alongside the two on the bed. She was content with her two, but he was halfway to sitting upright.

"Are you comfortable like that?" She asked, and he let out a breath that could have been a laugh.

"I am unused to sleeping with such soft, easily-torn materials," he said, and Kirsty bit her lip as the image of his pinned head getting caught in a feather pillow flashed across her mind, "but... yes, I suppose that for the time being I am comfortable. This is not how I used to sleep, but... I suppose it is a manageable middle."

"How did you used to sleep?" She asked, watching Elliot's hand as he started idly playing with her hair. These were such small things - lying next to each other, little touches, talking in the middle of the night - but Kirsty hadn't realized how much she'd ached for them, ached for these experience with him, until she had them. If only the circumstances were happier, this might have been pure bliss.

"Not with such a thick blanket," he said, tugging at the comforter a little. "Nor with such noises as those of the city." He gestured to the balcony window, where the bustle of cars could be heard from floors before. He paused, before looking at Kirsty again. "Nor with a beautiful woman beside me."

Kirsty smiled and pulled herself up so she could kiss him. Elliot's hands settled on her waist; they stayed that way as they kissed, and Kirsty pulled away what felt like far too soon to tap his nose with one finger.

"Flatterer."

"Only because it is true, Kirsty." She settled onto his chest and closed her eyes, which he accepted with a kiss to her forehead. "I am fortunate to be with you."

"Yeah?" She smiled a little. "I'm glad you're here." She felt his hand on her back, slowly slipping down to the curve of her spine, her cotton shirt shifting under his fingers. He settled it there and seemed to relax.

"... I am not happy I am here," he said after a moment, voice quiet, "but I am happy that it somehow led me to you." She hummed a little against his chest.

"Love you."

"I love you, Kirsty." His other hand settled on her back, and Kirsty felt him let out a deep, slow breath. "I shall see you when we wake."

"Yes," she said, "you will." She still didn't know what to do, or what he was going to do while she was at work tomorrow, but he would be there when she woke up. That comfort was enough to let her relax, and soon the sounds of the city faded to the rise and fall of his chest, then nothing at all.

Chapter 4! Probably going to have a little more action next chapter, but I really wanted to get this one down first. Chapter 17's up next!