Around two A.M. I decided to drag my sorry ass up the stairs to the loft. I had thrown my notebook in a trashcan hours ago, losing hope in every finding enough insight to write a decent screenplay. Now I only had to open the door and crawl into bed, forgetting about this whole miserable day, and the contents within it. I shut the door locking it behind, and when I turned around the light was on in the bathroom. Who was up at this hour in our loft anymore? A flash of terror set in as I realized this was the set up the night Roger and I fount April's body. The adrenaline started to pump through my veins, and an involuntary cold sweat broke out across my forehead as I crept toward the bathroom. I shut my eyes as I was about to enter and when I opened them I---I saw nothing. Somebody had forgot to turn off the bathroom light…that's all. I flipped the switch off and headed to Roger's room to see if he was awake. He lay with his muscular arms around Mimi, and I couldn't help but smile. I then snuck into Collins' old bedroom to check up on Rachel…she wasn't there. My heart began to go a hundred miles a minute as worry surged within my head. Where was she?!

"Rachel?" I called racing to my bedroom, "Rachel?!" I had to cuff my mouth to stop myself from yelling again. She was asleep on my bed, curled up with one of my screenplays. I sighed heavily and turned on the light to my room. Tip toeing I creep up beside her, taking the notebook from her hand and placing it on my dresser. She doesn't even stir.

"That's what you get for staying up all night reading Mark's screenplays of infamy." I whisper to her incoherent body as I take off my clothes, throwing on some sweats and an old blue t-shirt for the night. I don't want to wake her up, so I cover her with a blanket and start towards her room. Not before, however, I sit on the edge of the bed, ogling at her beautiful face. "You know I can't say this enough, but you don't fit in here Rachel. You're the first person I've cared about in a long time, and…and, and WHY can't I say this to your face," I murmur resentfully. Finally, unable to hold my eyes open any longer, I head for the door. When I flip off the light I hear her groan drowsily.

"Mark?" she yawns.

"Yeah, it's me." She suddenly realizes where she is.

"Oh Mark, I'm sorry, I'll go to my room." She starts to get up, and I want to protest, tell her to stay in the room with me. Tell her that I want to hold her all night, feel her body next to mine. But I can't! GOD it'd be nice if I could grow some balls for once!

"It really doesn't matter to me but, why were you in here?" I finally am able to spit out.

"It's really cold in my room so I came in here to warm up while my little heater warmed my room, but got caught up in reading one of your screenplays and I guess I fell asleep."

I laugh lightly, "That says a lot for my plays."

"No! I didn't mean it like that—"

I smile, "It was a joke Rachel, it's okay. Look, I refuse to have you freeze to death in that igloo for a room of yours. Just stay with me for the night."

"You sure you don't mind?"

Mind? Me…MIND?! Woman I would jump oceans to have you in here with me!!! Talking to me about angles and architecture and bad films we've seen and other shit the rest of the world wouldn't understand! Holding you until dawn forced us apart. Mind? Do I mind????

"No, I don't mind at all."

She yawns so hard she looses her footing and falls towards me.

"Easy killer," I joke catching her. "Let's get to bed, my eyes are laced with cement over here."

"Same here," she says crawling into bed. I lay right beside her, taking my glasses off then wrapping my arms around her praying she didn't reject me. When she doesn't I sighed then in realization thought. She wouldn't reject me of this. I meant something to her. Why would she be here beside me if I didn't? The only thing is, we hadn't done anything but talk of the silver screen and photography, besides that one kiss. How much did I mean to her? God, I sound like a sixteen-year-old girl on the telephone. I sigh.

"God I could stay like this forever," she says turning towards me where are torsos touching, her brunette hair tickling my chin. "I feel safe with you Mark. Not many people have been able to do that since my sister died."

"I'd hold you forever if you'd let me." I want to say, but don't. "I'm glad Rachel." I say in authenticity.

"I know Mark." She tilts her head up and kisses my nose. "Good night Fluffy."

I smile at the reference to the blond mop on my scalp. "Night"