Work Text:
"It's been a long day," I say.
"And a long month for me, even though it's been a little over a week."
"Thermidor," I murmur. He nods.
So he lays himself on the bed; not even taking his waistcoat, shirt or jacket off. He is tired, closes his eyes right away and pulls the blanket gently on himself.
I stretch. Looking around the room, I can't find anything worth staying awake for. I'll choose sleep, and he notices that.
"Tired?" he asks, opening his eyes just a little bit.
I nod. He once again softly pulls the blanket away and shifts aside. "There's free space."
And the shallow-appearing emotional void in us turns out to be deeper than we thought. We embrace. He runs his fingers through my hair as if I'm from his blood. I find comfort. So does he.
We don't talk about it.