Fiction 58

She watches him, his eyes fluttering frantically under his eyelids as he dreams. Now he mumbles. Something about a payment. Work. Even now, she smiles to herself. She places her hand on his stubbly cheek and kisses him softly on his eyes. He smiles, and reaches for her and curls up like a baby with its favorite soft toy. 

She smells in the rum soaked breath. “I thought you were asleep!.” she laughs.

“I was.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“And you?”

“I’ll watch. And maybe read some more. I can’t sleep.”

“How you manage with so little sleep, I can never understand.”

“And how you manage to sleep through even an earthquake, I can never understand!”

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