Arlecchino stirred the moment she heard him whimper. Aether was crying in his sleep again. She laced her fingers into his hand, wrapped around her waist. The tears didn't stop. Between his tears, she heard his whispers.
"Please…stay…"
Arlecchino had a pretty good idea of who he was sleep-talking to. She turned around to face him and hugged him, letting his tears fall on her shoulder. He quietly held her in return.
The tears ebbed, and he resumed a silent slumber. Arlecchino gently touched and kissed his cheek. Then, she turned back around and returned to sleep.
Aether woke up in bed, spooning Arlecchino. Her black fingers were interlaced with his own. Her gray hair rested upon his arm, smelling of that wonderful perfume Golden Star. He took a deep whiff and felt his heart race.
Arlecchino stirred without a sound. She turned around to face him. With tender, loving eyes, she squeezed his hand. That was their signal for a restless night.
Aether sighed. "It wasn't a nightmare. I dreamed that I was talking to someone."
"Tadhla or Lumine?"
"Both. It felt so real."
Arlecchino, in an unusually affectionate move, embraced him. Her warm body, lined with scars and burns, pressed into his. Crimson nails grazed his hair softly. Red eyes burrowed into his own.
"I know what it's like," she said.
She didn't have to elaborate. He knew all too well about her dreams with Clervie. Aether stroked her cheek with his palm and thumb. She ran her hand over his while Aether rested his forehead against hers.
A smile broke across his face. In spite of everything, she smiled too.
"Well, I'll be fine," he said. "You know why?"
"Why?"
"Because, I get to wake up naked with you."
Arlecchino gave a rare laugh. She had an adorable little laugh—sweet and melodious. It was girlish, cute, and something he felt so lucky to hear every day.
"Yes," she mused. "Waking up like this is certainly pleasing."
Arlecchino closed the distance and kissed his lips.
Her other hand went down to his morning wood.
"Aether," she began like she always did. "I…"
Still, the words wouldn't come. It didn't matter. Arlecchino showed him just how she felt and, without words, thanked him for easing her nightmares.