Really so thankful for all of you who are still reading and enjoying this... :)

Sleep Cuddling

He sneaks in quietly, shoes pinched between his fingertips as his sock-clad feet tiptoe across the hardwood and into the bedroom, the door quietly falling closed behind him. He stops, his eyes running across the unmoving form huddled beneath the comforter as his heart leaps happily. He sets down his shoes, his laptop bag, starts shedding his clothes with each step closer to the edge of the bed.

Clad only in his boxers, he leans over her, trails two fingers across the warm, so soft skin that stretches over the ball of her shoulder, peeking out from beneath the covers. She doesn't seem to notice, keeps slumbering on, her breathing deep and relaxed, a lulling rhythm to his fatigued mind. Her face is half smudged into the pillow, one hand curled beneath her chin and she's so gorgeous, he realizes all over again, taking his breath. Her cheeks brushed pink with sleep, her dark eyelashes throwing shadows onto her remarkable cheekbones, her lips tilted into an almost-smile as she sleeps peacefully.

He knows she wanted to stay up for him but he's glad she didn't, glad she succumbed to the sleep that she needs. It's the middle of the night, even the city noises have dulled to a low rumble, the pale streetlights brushing in through the slants of the half-closed shutters. The fatigue hits him hard now and he quickly moves around the bed and crawls beneath the covers on his side, scooting closer until he's spooned against her back.

She sighs in her sleep, a deep exhale that sounds like relief as she snuggles her rear further into his groin and her toes brush his shin.

"Castle," she hums, barely comprehensible in her sleep and yet he knows the sound of his name on her lips, the instinctive awareness as she subconsciously feels his presence. He wraps an arm around her stomach, cradling the distinct curve and tightening his hold on her, and her fingers cover his hand, slide between the gaps of his.

It's been two weeks, two seemingly interminably long weeks that he was gone, that he hadn't wanted to leave for in the first place but in the end, it is his work and they'd agreed that he needed to go. Only two weeks and yet the changes are noticeable, the mound a little rounder, firmer, the flutter and pop stronger against his palm as the baby moves, and he hates having missed a single moment of their time.

And he had missed her fiercely.

He folds her cold toes between his shins, curls around her, his face buried to the back of her neck where he can inhale her scent. His heart calms with the tangible proof of being home, of holding her in his arms. The sense of serenity lulls him, his eyes closing as he finally sinks into a deep, calm sleep.