In the darkness of the suite, none of them sleep well.
Danny has the blood and the loss of the war haunting his lightless dreams. Sam, at night, she can hear her secrets floating in the room, dancing on her skin, she can hear them mocking her, squeezing her heart but in reality, it's just Danny, with his eyes closed and his short breath, holding onto her, clenching at her.
So she moves up a bit, kisses the place where his jaw and neck meet, and waits for him to calm down. Fond smile curls onto her lips as soon as his body relaxes in his sleep. She moves herself closer to him to curl up around his frame and absorb the warmth that has become so familiar to her. His automatic response to her proximity sends tingles all over her skin; his heavy arm wraps itself around her waist, the brush of his lips against her hair even with nightmares and demons clouding his mind. She sighs and she finally closes her eyes.
And if her secrets follow her, shadow her even in her sleep, she pretends that she doesn't care, and if she could, she would bury them forever.
