The Night Watch ✓

30 / the last time

Gaia had spent almost the entire week with Evan, only coming home every now and then to pick up clothes or have an occasional meal with her flatmate, and it was with a bittersweet smile that Bree realised it was only a matter of time before Gaia would move out and she would be alone.

Well, not totally alone.

Kit had been over virtually every night, bringing a couple of ready meals that he had picked up on the way home from work, and Bree had grown used to waking up in his arms. Their schedules were almost identical now: he had to be in his classroom at half past eight in the morning and he left most days by five o'clock that afternoon, and as a result, Bree had been early to work every day that she had shared a ride with him. St Matthews was just a few miles from her office, dropping him off before she headed to her desk.

For now, only a handful of people knew about their relationship. Zara was not a part of that handful, but Bree wasn't sure how long that could continue. She wasn't a fan of secrecy anymore, and she had no reason to hide the fact that she had met someone she liked. But to tell her niece would be to make it a big thing, and her idea of taking it slow didn't marry well with the idea of making it a big thing.

Saturday came around so soon, the sudden weekend knocking Bree off her feet, and it was an incredible feeling to wake up at eight o'clock to the realisation that she was in no rush. No work on Saturday. No obligations to a job she tolerated at best. No need to roll away from Kit and stumble towards the kettle for a necessary coffee before she pulled on her uniform. She didn't have to be anywhere, so she stayed right where she was. Beside her, Kit lay gently snoring as he slept, flat out across the other side of the bed. They had celebrated last night, finishing off a couple of bottles of wine to congratulate Kit on surviving his first week at the secondary school, and they had fallen asleep tipsy and happy.

The morning sun peeked through the window, a faint ray cast across his unconscious body. Bree lay on her side, watching dust particles dance in the light, and her eyes travelled over Kit's skin as his back gently rose and fell with each breath. He looked so peaceful when he slept, and it relaxed Bree to watch him as he dozed. Last night, he had fallen asleep halfway through a film they had put on, the alcohol making him drowsy, and Bree had let him nap as she had lain with her head against his chest, his leaden arm around her shoulders. When he had come to at half past eleven, she had shaken off his apologies. It had been nice to just be together with no expectation of anything but company, watching him smile and hearing him laugh when the romantic comedy tickled his funny bone.

Bree had never been one to laugh out loud at films, usually favouring a roll of her eyes, but something about being with Kit brought out her sense of humour, as though he had unlocked a part of her brain she didn't even know she had. She had found herself guffawing at the stupidest lines until tears rolled down her cheeks, half of her amusement spurred on by Kit's laughter.

Now, he was asleep, and she moved closer to him. Tucking herself against his back with her face nestled against the nape of his neck, her arm curled around his stomach with her hand on his chest and her thighs lined up with his. He was always warm. Bree didn't have a lot of experience with warmth. Her hands and feet were always freezing, and she was pretty sure that the same could be said of her heart, until now. Her fingers were still cool, but Kit's heat radiated through her and when she pressed her lips to his skin, she smiled.

They had the flat to themselves all day, but Bree wanted to get out. She wanted to walk through town with her hand in his, to prove to herself that she could be that girl. The one who fell in love and held hands in public and enjoyed the nights that she spent with her boyfriend even when they didn't have sex. Last night had been one of those nights, indulging in every other aspect of their relationship. They had talked and they had laughed, and she had failed miserably in her attempts to play Kit's violin.