She didn't remember falling asleep.
One moment, they were sitting in silence — her legs still resting on his lap, his fingers tracing slow, absent-minded patterns along her shin. The wine sat forgotten on the table. The air felt warm, still, peaceful.
Then his voice broke the quiet.
"You look tired."
She didn't open her eyes. "I'm always tired."
He shifted. "Come on. Let's move before you start drooling."
Celeste cracked one eye open and glared. "I don't drool."
"Not yet."
She slapped his arm, but it was half-hearted. She let him help her up, her body heavier than she remembered. The walk to the bedroom was quiet. The hallway lights were dim, moonlight spilling through the windows like a hush.
Inside, she didn't ask him to leave. He didn't ask if he should stay. It just… happened. Like everything else tonight.
She changed into an oversized shirt, tossed her hair into a messy knot, and climbed into the bed without a word. Damien kicked off his shoes, pulled off his hoodie, and settled beside her — not close enough to assume, not far enough to feel absent.
Celeste turned to face him in the dark.
"You're not weirded out by this?" she asked softly.
He looked at her, one arm folded under his head. "What? Sleeping next to a beautiful liar with trust issues?"
She blinked. "Wow."
He grinned. "I mean that affectionately."
She shook her head, but the smile tugged at her lips anyway. "You're insane."
"Maybe. But you're still here."
That made her pause.
Yeah. She was still here.
She rolled over and pulled the blanket up to her chin. He didn't touch her. Didn't reach for her. Just let her exist beside him without question.
Minutes passed.
Then her voice broke the stillness again.
"Thank you… for tonight."
Damien didn't say much. Just: "Sleep, Celeste."
And for the first time in too long, she did.