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Alfie swears under his breath as he waked up alone in the middle of the night when he knows well and good that he fell asleep with Tommy right beside him. Light spills in from under the closed door, and Alfie knows that if he goes out to the living room that he’ll find Tommy, sitting in his chair, possibly smoking a cigarette, and reading a book or just starring off into space.
That’s always where Alfie finds him when he can’t sleep, which is more often than not.
Mind made up, Alfie clambers out of bed, opens the door and makes his way out to the living room. Sure enough, Tommy’s there, just like always, a book in hand but it doesn't look like he's reading it. The scent of cigarettes hangs lightly in the air.
“It’s two in the fucking morning, get back into bed with me.” Alfie grumbles.
“Can’t sleep.”
“I don’t care. You’re just sitting here, you can just lay there in bed with me while I sleep.” He doesn’t wait, Tommy will follow, just like he always does.