"Leave. Come back in the morning. Like a normal person."
"We've established I'm not normal."
I let out a breath. Push the covers aside and swing my legs over the edge of the bed.
Bruno's eyes drop to my bare legs.
I'm wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Nothing scandalous. But the way he looks at me?—
He jerks his gaze away. Stares at the wall like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.
"So," I say. "You woke me up. You're not leaving. That means you need to entertain me."
"What?"
"Entertain me. Keep me company. Make up for ruining my sleep."
"I don't... entertain."
"Everyone entertains. It's called being a person."
"I don't entertain myself," he says slowly. "Let alone someone else."
"What do you do at two in the morning when you can't sleep?"
He doesn't answer.
"Bruno."
"I sit," he says finally. "I think. I... exist."
"That sounds miserable."
"It is."
The honesty catches me off guard.
I study him in the dim light. The shadows under his eyes. The tension in his shoulders. The way his hands never quite relax on those armrests.
"How long has it been since you slept through the night?"
"I don't remember."
"Weeks? Months?"
"I said I don't remember."
Which means it's been a long time.
I stand up. Walk to the window. Pull back the curtain.
"When I can't sleep," I say, "I make lists."
"Lists."
"Things I need to do. Things I'm worried about. Things I'm grateful for." I turn back to face him. "It helps get the thoughts out of my head."
"I don't make lists."
