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“Hey,” she rasps. He opens up the edge of the blanket over him and she sneaks in, knees and elbows knocking into his chest and thighs as she fits herself into the space. Aaron shifts back against the cushions and her head settles on the pillow beneath his head.
“Hey.” He murmurs. She can feel the frayed thread of his voice; it always gets rougher when he has one of his nights, ragged and lower than usual. “Did I wake you?”
Or, Aaron can’t sleep. Emily keeps him company.
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She knows how isolating they are, nights like these. Everyone else trapped under the safe bubble of sleep and her hovering just at the edge of it, barred entrance.