Wake -

He's a lump, pulling on bedding, too-hot, she's heavy just to look at him.

But when she blinks sleep and finds him – eyes smaller when shut, wrinkles stark and stubble deep – she's lulled by breathing too-slow to feel her own to realise herself… unsurprised, her chest black-coated warm to think him safe, in her bed.

(Safe, even from her.)

It's a form of happy ending, Regina thinks, last minutes clicking till the alarm, that's within her grasp and, perhaps, beyond her right, that he's here when she wakes.

(That, after her lifetime, she wakes able to believe he will be.)