At night, sometimes, he can fool himself into believing that it is Seifer in the bed beside him, instead of emptiness or the few people who he could trust not to mind if it wasn't their name he moaned during sex. Of course, he's learned the hard way that someone not caring about it is different to trusting someone to know it and not do anything with the information.
The nights when his bed is empty, he wants the night never to end. He can dream in the dark, let down his guards and let the demons in and out. He can fantasize, and no one will know. But most of all he loves the dreams that come on their own when he closes his eyes, the soft kisses and the soft words.
Night is his comforter, it allows him to be himself, allows him to long for something he can never have with no guilt.
But even night leaves him in the end.
