She was in that place between sleeping and awake, barely conscious of anything except him. He's a light sleeper, waking up in the middle of the night struck with nightmares since he was a boy. They have both seen more shit in their short time here on earth than most people will in a lifetime.

"Hey," she whispered as he rolled over, facing her, "Sleep okay?" she had a little smile on her face, one of the ones that she reserves just for him.

"Sort of," he told her, "you?"

"Okay, it would have been better if you hadn't kicked me in the ribs at one am." she laughed as she said it, all breathy and smooth.

He buried his face in the pillow, hiding his reddening cheeks from view. "Fuck you,"

She sat up, running her fingers through her hair, retracing where his hand had been last night.

"What do you want to do today?" she asked him, "hubby?"

He looked at, a goofy grin taking up his whole face. He still can't believe she can call him that.

"I have to go into the office, but after that maybe dinner? You could wear that new dress…" he said, getting out of bed and making his way over to the closet.

"Alright," she said, walking up behind him, he turned around, taking in the sight of her. In the chaos of last night she had wound up in his t-shirt, and he cant fucking stand it.

"I'm gonna shower before I try to take that shirt off of you." he told her, she shook her head.

"Your insufrible, Ken."

"Tell me something I don't know, Naomi."

If you told her a year ago that she would be married to Kendall Roy, she would mainly be surprised by the fact that she lived long enough to see next year. Her life has been in turmoil for a while now, cycles or recovery broken at the drop of a dime. It wasn't how she ever intended on living, yet it felt like her destiny.

Her childhood was a happy one, her early years spent in the country, surrounded by anything she could ever want. Her mother was a present figure, actually putting care into Naomi, raising her with the intention of making her life the exception. Raising her to survive.

But then she started at 's academy, and met Tabitha, and was introduced to the concept of a high. Running around with the other girl was the only thing she knew for years, the days blurring together, months wasted on worshiping her body. The two of them thought it was love, and maybe at one point it was. For her seventeenth birthday they tried coke together, and when they came down a few days later, naked in her family's horse stables, she realized that this was the missing piece she had been searching for all these years.

So she learned to chase it, learned to hide her problem, how to be functional despite the fact that she was crumbling. She tried to get better, but after her mom died it felt like no use. Who was she getting sober for? Because it sure as hell wasn't herself. It was easy, normal, steady, and then he came into her life. A hurricane of a man, contained by her love.

It's a strange thing, being happy, but she thinks she can get used to it.

Kendall sometimes wishes he was dealt different cards in life, that he wasn't the first born, that he was able to move through life without being so sure he was dying. He's spent his entire life in his father's shadow, the dark, the only home he has ever known.

His childhood was miserable. One of the only good things he can remember was how his mother used to rock him to sleep before she went out. The smell of her Chanel number five, and the sight of her in those evening gowns, designer down to her knees. Logan never truly cared for him, and began to properly resent him as soon as he hit puberty. The novelty of his childhood wearing off and leaving nothing more than a spoiled little rich boy.

He spent his teen years in his bedroom, Stewy the only one to keep him company. The two of them discovered what they were sure was the meaning of life when they kissed that one drunken night, sixteen bringing more that either one of them anticipated. It was a routine for a while, stealing a bottle from his dad's cellar, put on some music, and see how far they could go before sunrise. Stewy was always more of an adventurer than he was, and he didn't mind at all. He gave it all up when he went to Harvard though, both of them realizing that they were better off as friends, (besides, Stewy had been cheating on Kendall for months at that point, neither of them feeling man enough to admit that they had run their course).

Rava came into his life his junior year of college, and he never looked back. He found her mesmerizing, a woman all her own. They spent much of the early months sprawled out on his bed, or on a blanket in her backyard, planning a life they would never have. He wanted to give them the life she dreamed of, a family, stability, a sense of meaning. She was his rainbow after the storm, and he intended on chasing it until he found that pot of gold.

He relapsed when his son was only a few months old, buckling under the stress of two children. Rava found him passed out on the bathroom floor, driving him to rehab while a neighbor watched the kids. She told him that it couldn't happen again, he's a father now, and she wont have the kids growing up around a coked up dad.

She would give him that same speech a million different times over the next eight years before the ipads, and the dicvorce papers. Before she gave up, accepting that dreams are just dreams, that's all they were ever meant to be.

Naomi came into him when he was so sure that the good parts of his life were over, when he had resigned himself to waiting for death to take him away. She stepped in, showing him that all along, the dark had a way out, if only he could see it, if only he could follow her on the path out. She is the color in his grey existence, light filtering in through the cracks. She saved his life, and he's never loved anyone more.

She slipped into her new dress, one she bought just for him to see. It's a slinky, black number with a v-neck and a deep back cutout. She could already imagine his face, jaw on the floor, eyes shining with something sinister.

She did her hair, and put on the same red lip she had worn to city hall. They had just gotten the photos back from the wedding, one of him smiling like an idiot, her cherry kiss print on his cheek was on the fridge, waiting for its frame.

He had booked reservations for a little french place, agreeing to meet her and start popping bottles of champagne at nine. She arrived on the dot, savoring the walk to their table, enjoying the way the other patrons whispered about her. She didn't mind the talk, because she's Kendall Roy's scandalous new bride, and proud of it.

"Hey," she breathed out when she reached him, running a hand over his chest, "I've missed you."

"Me too," he said, still trying to regain his composure after seeing her walking over to him, a goddess amongst the mortals, his wife.

They hardly touched their meals, too entranced by one another to eat. Neither of them were able to understand how after everything, they get the privilege of being together.

If only they had been able to focus a bit more on their surroundings, able to break the spell for long enough to notice the camera flash, and the man in the ATN jacket holding the camera.