Saint sits on the floor beside the couch, his back resting against it like he’s standing guard even while he rests.
His eyes are closed.
But I know he isn’t fully asleep.
He never is.
I watch him for a moment before I speak.
“You should sleep.”
One eye opens.
“I am,” he says.
He shifts slightly.
“Just… horizontally challenged.”
A smile slips out before I can stop it.
I move from the couch and sit down beside him on the floor.
Not touching.
Just close.
The cabin is quiet except for the fire crackling softly in the stone hearth.
Outside, the wind moves through the trees.
For a few minutes, the world doesn’t feel like it’s closing in on us.
“She loves you,” I say softly.
Saint snorts quietly.
“She has poor judgment.”
I laugh.
The sound surprises both of us.
It feels strange.
Light.
Like something we forgot how to do.
Then it fades.
“I don’t know what we’re doing,” I admit.
Saint doesn’t pretend otherwise.
“Me neither.”
The honesty is oddly comforting.
