Longer wait and shorter chapters, sorry loves, but I didn't want to get into the events of the next day quite yet. Hope you enjoy this little bit of awkwardness between Rose and James!

Discarded cardboard containers littered the table, and James, Jack, and Rose sat comfortably on the couch, completely full after their large meal.

"I haven't eaten that much in weeks," Rose groaned, holding her stomach and leaning heavily against James, who had one arm slung casually over her shoulders. He shot a curious look at Jack, who was looking at Rose with an unfathomable expression.

"Why haven't you been eating?" James asked, keeping his voice purposefully light when Jack said nothing.

Rose shot a wide-eyed look at Jack, as though hoping he would save her from having to answer. Jack simply lifted his eyebrows as her. James was grateful and surprised. He didn't have a doubt in his mind that Jack cared deeply for Rose, and it was slightly strange – and uncharacteristic of what he'd seen of Rose's friends – that he wasn't jumping to defend her. He realized then how concerned Jack was for Rose – he wouldn't defend her not eating to James, not if her health was at stake.

"No time," Rose answered shortly, realizing very quickly that she did not like getting ganged up on by the two.

"Really, Rose?" Jack asked idly, taking a sip from his class of water. "Seems to me that you'd have a lot of time to eat, considering you were at work for twenty-four hours a day for seven days."

Rose pressed her lips together, shooting Jack a glare. "I was there for a reason, Jack. If I'm not mistaken, you were there for a few days at a time, too," she retorted drily, obviously feeling slightly under attack and not liking it one bit.

James squeezed Rose's shoulders, and she turned her irritated gaze to him. "No working," He told her quietly. Her face stayed stony for a few more moments before she finally relaxed, letting out a deep breath. She leaned her head on James's shoulder, shooting a final glare at Jack, who innocently raised his glass in to her in a mocking salute before taking another sip.

Rose returned her gaze to the telly, where Harry Potter was riding Buckbeak for the first time. "I could see you doing that." She said quietly to James, who almost didn't hear the comment.

"What?" James chuckled.

She gestured to the screen. "Going flying on a hippogriff. I could see you doing that."

James blinked, unsure of what to say. "Is that a good thing?" He asked curiously, looking down at her just as she looked up to his face.

She shrugged, a smirk on her lips. "Makes you the protagonist, I suppose," she teased, tilting her head so she could examine his features, even though it was at a slightly awkward angle.

His gaze flicked down to her lips before he met her warm eyes. "Of whose story?" He asked quietly. A faint blush crept into her cheeks, and he smiled fondly.

A small smile blossomed on her lips as she regarded him, taking in every freckle and every feature. "Not sure yet," she told him, and he felt a shred of hope bloom in his stomach. "We'll see, I suppose."

"I suppose we will," James answered, trying to sound nonchalant regardless of the fact that he found himself unable to keep the wide smile that was quickly forming at bay.

Jack, in a very un-Jack-like manner, took that as his cue to leave. "Well, kids," he said loudly, grinning when Rose and James jumped, looking at him in surprise. "That's it for me, I think. I'm going to take a shower and get to bed." He patted Rose's calf, which was quite near him as she lounged on the couch, and stood up, making his way to the bathroom.

James looked at his watch in confusion. "Jack, it isn't even 6:30," he told his flatmate, internally wondering what on earth he was questioning his flatmate's motives. Jack was getting out of his hair, and he should absolutely let him. Things had been going perfectly well before his arrival, after all.

Jack turned when he got to the doorway of the bathroom, a knowing smirk on his face. If he looked carefully, James realized he could see hints of exhaustion on the man's handsome features. "Yeah, and I've been stuck at the office for four days. If she can fall asleep on the couch at 3 in the afternoon," Rose's blush darkened, "then I can go to bed at 6:30." He closed the door of the bathroom before Rose or James could argue, and they heard the shower knob swivel on and water start to run.

Rose looked up at James and shrugged, once again resting her head on his shoulder and turning her attention to the telly. Though she had managed to get a nap in, James could still see the fatigue in her eyes, and he knew that she probably wouldn't last much longer. "Do you want to go to bed, too?" He asked her quietly, hoping she didn't because he was still very much enjoying cuddling with her, and he would absolutely be the gentleman, giving her his bed whilst he slept on the couch. It wasn't the most comfortable piece of furniture, and James was certain that he would wake up with a stiff neck and a sore back, but she needed a real bed and some rest more desperately than he, and he didn't mind giving up a single night's worth of sleep if he could convince her to finally give her body some time to recover.

To his delight, she shook her head, musing her hair even further against the cotton of his shirt. "After the movie, maybe," she answered, a wide yawn punctuating her statement.

"Okay," he murmured, resting his cheek against her hair.

A nearly overwhelming tiredness had returned to Rose's mind by the time the film was over, and when she finally managed to stand up from her comfortable position against James, her limbs felt heavy. Thinking and processing anything he said to her was difficult, and she was dimly reminded of trying to see through fog, squinting to see into the mist.

It reminded her of drunkenness, in a way, but this was much less pleasant. Alcohol didn't make her extremities feel as though they were weighted down by lead.

James managed to scrounge up a spare toothbrush, still in its packaging, and passed it to her triumphantly. She grinned when she took it, making quick work of brushing her teeth so that she could finally close her eyes and let sleep overcome her. Her face had already been scrubbed when she'd taken a shower, so she was satisfied that, teeth smooth under her tongue, she was ready to go to sleep. She realized suddenly as she exited the bathroom that she and James hadn't discussed sleeping arrangements.

While she didn't want to commandeer his bed, if she slept on the couch, that would limit his movements – he'd essentially be trapped in his room until morning, and it was only barely 8PM.

As she hesitantly walked back into the living room, James poked his out from his bedroom, smiling at her and motioning with his hand for her to follow him in.

"Got the bed ready for you," he said cheerfully, tossing the comforter over the sheets. "Clean sheets. Figured if I can't give you a clean apartment, I can at least give you clean sheets." He smiled widely at her, gesturing to his bed as though it were an exhibit in a museum and she should oooh and aaah in response.

She looked at the bed in surprise, then back up to James, who was grinning at her with a hint of hesitation in his expression. His hand went through his hair – a clear sign of his discomfort – and she realized he was waiting for her to say something.

Finally, she smiled. "Thank you, James," she said sincerely, moving over to where he stood to wrap him in a tight hug, which he returned. She felt like she'd thanked him at least ten times since arriving at his flat only a few hours ago, but it felt as though the thank you's did not accurately represent her gratefulness to him for taking care of her, regardless of how difficult she unintentionally made it.

"Of course," He said quietly, knowing the tips of his ears had gone pink again. She pulled away from their hug and gently pressed her lips to his cheek, and his skin warmed under her touch. For a moment she met his eyes, as though gauging his reaction, then she leaned in and lightly kissed his lips. It was chaste and short and when she pulled away from him she smiled warmly, and he reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear before leaning forward and pressing his lips to her forehead.

Her cheeks tinged the colour of her namesake and he felt warmth and affection stir in his core. "Good night, Rose," he half-whispered, running his thumb lightly over her cheekbone and repressing a shiver of delight when she leaned into his touch.

She blinked slowly and her lips pulled into a slow smile. "Good night, James," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. She stepped out of his grip and he moved toward the door, reaching up to flick the light switch off, stopped by a hesitant, "James?"

He turned to meet her gaze and saw that she was looking at him with and unsure expression on her face, her teeth sinking tantalizingly into her lower lip. "Yeah?"

Her teeth released her lip but she immediately pressed her lips together, and as they curled around her teeth slightly he realized she was the picture of insecurity. "I just…I wanted…you don't have to…" she shook her head, her cheeks bright pink and her eyes not directly meeting his gaze. "You don't have to sleep out there," she gestured to the couch, "I just mean," she made an irritated noise and ran her hand through her hair before finally holding her hands up exasperation. "I don't mind sharing. The bed, I mean. We can sleep in the same bed, without…" she gestured again, her face bright red.

Realization dawned on him, and his eyes widened, "oh," his felt his face heat up. "Um. Thanks."

She nodded jerkily and bit her lip.

He swallowed. "Alright, then," he said hurriedly, flicking the light off and closing the door behind him.

Rose let out a breath when the door closed behind him. She hadn't meant to sound so…awkward. All she'd wanted to tell him was that she didn't mind if they slept in the same bed because undoubtedly his bed was more comfortable than the couch, and it was his flat, after all.

Not to mention the fact that falling asleep against him, his arms wrapped protectively around her, had been the most comfortable she'd been in years.

She blinked and then groaned, covering her face with her hands. There was no way she could bring that up without sounding horribly and terribly awkward, she realized, no matter how well-meaning the offer was. The damage was done.

She climbed into the inviting bed and burrowed under the covers, hoping that if James did, by some miracle, choose to sleep in his bed, with her, rather than the couch, her face would no longer be bright red.

Or, if it was, which seemed likely at this point, that he wouldn't notice.

With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would come easily, though she was certain it wouldn't come as easy as when she was pressed against James's side, his arm around her waist.

James wrung his hands, sitting on the couch and absentmindedly watching the news. It was only 9:30 – far too early for him to consider going to bed. But with Rose bundled in his bed and a standing invite to cuddle up next to her, going to bed was very, very tempting.

He shook his head at his own folly and rose from the couch, clicking off the telly and making his way to the bathroom brush his teeth and wash his face.

He was a grown man, he told himself. If he wanted to go to bed at 9:30, he could.

Especially if a gorgeous woman was there too.

The process was fast – mostly because Rose was waiting in his bed – and he was ready to sleep a few minutes later. He went to his bedroom and placed his hand on the handle, pausing.

He took a deep breath, telling himself to stop stressing out. After all, he'd spent the entire afternoon with Rose on his lap, it wasn't like this was going to be much different. If anything, there would probably be more space between the two of them on the bed. He opened the door quietly, slipped into his room and closed the door soundlessly behind him, giving his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dark room before attempting to move.

It took longer than he expected, but eventually his eyes adjusted and he could see the Rose's outline under the blankets, and he could safely climb into bed without crushing her or accidentally kicking her. He moved to the side of the bed she wasn't occupying and slid in, feeling his heart pound loudly in his chest and wondering how the loud and quick beat of his pulse hadn't woken her up.

She shifted and her eyes slowly blinked open. They widened when they came landed on him, and it seemed to take a few minutes for something to sink in. "James?" She whispered, turning to look at him.

"Yeah," he whispered back. "This okay?"

"Yeah," she repeated. After a few seconds, the blankets rustled and he felt the mattress dip slightly. Quite like that she was next to him, her face only a few inches from his and her eyes glinting slightly, reflecting a light he couldn't see. A stray strand of hair tickled his nose. "This alright?" Her question was a barely audible whisper.

Feeling a stroke of boldness surge through him, he inched closer, loosely wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his forehead against hers. "Yeah," he replied breathlessly.

She shifted until she was comfortable, almost pressed flush against him, her head tucked under his chin. He heard her inhale deeply before quietly responding, "good."

He smiled affectionately and closed his eyes.