You and Abbot had a sort of quiet understanding. You'd started out as house mates - sharing an old victorian building with impractical features in the middle of nowhere.

Then you figured out just how bad his insomnia was, and it ended up with you both in one room. Neither of you cared for labels. You just knew you cared. And a lot of the time that worked well enough, but sometimes it didn't.

the rustle of the sharp white sheets was loud enough to wake you. Neither of you had thought to close the curtains Iver but that's wasn't what was keeping him awake. Or at least he didn't think so. He never knew.

maybe it was his addiction to adrenaline, upholding a constant state of alertness. Or maybe it was the fact you were on his hip with such natural calm when Neither of you had thought to name what you had yet.