Watching Nyota Sleep 2
He was alone: Peace, serenity, solitude.
In the silence, he heard her calling for him. She was calling, calling in the distance.
She sounded very far away – so anxious, lost.
He moved toward her.
Once his motion started, he forgot – ignored - lifelong habits of moving slowly for the comfort of others. No others mattered: She needed him.
He came to where she was: He opened his eyes.
Turning to look at her, he saw the curtain drawn around them. He was in the Medical bay. It was clearly the middle of ship's night.
Nyota slept in the chair beside his bed: She had braved the inquisitive to come to him.
She had been leaning toward him when she fell asleep – arm propped on the bed, head cradled in its crook - one hand extended, not quite touching his side.
He watched her sleep.
Carefully, so that he would not wake her, he slid his hand over the bedclothes toward her.
Taking her hand in his, he lifted it the few inches toward his heart. He gently placed it there, covering it with his own. He interlaced his fingers with hers.
Now, he would sleep.
They were together: Peace, serenity, belonging.