The sunlight was warm against his waking skin, and when he looked up he could see streaks of dusty light crisscrossing the room. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the side, long dark hair spreading across his pillow like an ink stain.
A shadow fell across him, he kept his eyes closed. The shadow did not move and his eyes did not open.
"I know you’re awake" said a voice more familiar to him than his own
"You don’t" he replied, voice husky from disuse.
A hand, fingers rough with calluses pressed against his jaw.
"Now I do"
"I don’t feel like I’m awake" he murmured, turning his head so he could feel the press of fingers a little longer. Wishing the imprints would sink into his skin.
A sigh, warm air dancing across his skin.
"You never do" the voice said quietly, with a distinct air of melancholy. The hand moved slid from his skin, rasping slightly against stubble on his jaw. And he couldn’t stop his own from reaching out and grasping at the wrist. He opened his eyes, haunted grey meeting shattered amber.
"I think" he said, leaning upwards "I feel more awake when you’re with me."
A smile flickered across a scarred face. “I suppose” he said, his voice containing all the warmth of the summer sun “That means” his hand twisted and twined with the other mans. “That I’ll have to stay”
Grey eyes crinkled at the corners. And something bloomed in the air between them. “Yes” he said, eyes flitting towards their intertwined fingers “I rather think it does.”
