He relishes moments like this – when it is still dark outside but with the presence of an anticipation for dawn to break. He could hear her steady breathing beside him, reassuring him of her presence.

He remembers the very first time he spent the night.

“Stay” she had mumbled through her sleep-induced haze. He knew he shouldn’t, mustn’t and yet all he did was to slip under the covers and joined her in bed. He shouldn’t and mustn’t, but he could.

He had woken up before her to creep back into his room just before dawn broke. Nobody had noticed that his bed was unnaturally neat during the morning mission. Or if they had, they chose not to mention it.

She woke up in the middle of the night with his arms around her waist and wonders if she did the right thing asking him to stay. She has never felt this safe with his arms around her.

Weeks passed as he tossed and turned in his bed every night, unable to sleep without her lithe form in his arms and he did the only sensible thing a sleep-deprived man could do. He drove down to her apartment and knocked on her door. She opened the door and he followed her retreating back into her bedroom and into bed with her. No words were exchanged.

She woke up yet again in the middle of the night this time with his legs interlocking hers and wonders blearily if this was going to be a regular occurrence from now on and promptly fell back in