I slip between the covers of my bed, ignoring the suffocating darkness around me. James turns off the sink downstairs and I sigh, rolling onto my right side and burrowing deeper. The ladder creaks as he climbs up and I let my eyes drift shut. It has been a long day, with arguing and heat and stressed silences. I already know he won’t come kiss me goodnight because of this, but a rock still drops into my stomach when I hear him close the door to his room after passing by my cracked one. My teeth dig into the inside of my cheek. It is a quiet, angry night. I’m glad to be alone, but still wish I weren’t.

I try to stop thinking as drowsiness falls on me like silk, silent and soft. My lips part, my breathing deepens, and my mind is quiet. I am in the place just before dreaming, when I can still hear the world around me but am more in tune to the one I am about to enter. I don’t hear the door swing open gently, nor the light padding bare feet make on unfinished wood. I only become aware of his presence when his gossamer fingers touch my hair. I force my eyes open and look up at his figure, more shadow than person in the faint moonlight that slips through the window.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I was a jerk today.”

A small smile crinkles my sleepy eyes. “It’s all right. I was too.”

We watch each other silently, but it’s not the angry silence of earlier. It’s a forgiving one. I reach a hand out from under my blankets and touch the place where his jaw meets his cheek, lightly. He presses his face into my hand, lips brushing my palm. His dark eyes close for a moment and he lifts his own hand to mine, covering it. Finally, he opens his eyes and kisses my forehead.

“Goodnight,” James says into my skin. I shiver slightly, but the ache reforms in my chest.

“Wait,” I hear myself say as he stands and moves toward my door. He turns and watches me sit up on my small bed. “Please,” I clutch the blankets to my chest. “Please stay.”

I can hear a smile pass through his lips, and he walks back toward me. “Okay,” he agrees as he pushes the blankets away. His warmth is immediate against my constantly cold body as he wraps his arms around me, giving me a pillow that I know will result in a numb arm for him. My face is even with his chest, but I lean my head back so I can see his. His eyes are warm in the dark room, and he shifts slightly, using his free hand to tilt my chin up to his.

His lips brush so lightly against mine that I’m not even sure they have, until they press more firmly, more insistently to me. There is no question left as my hand finds its way again to his face, tracing the lines his cheekbones make to his jaw. I lift my lips and watch him.

“I love you,” he says with a tired smile.

My lips sing as I smile back. “I love you more.”