You came back late from a night helping the village head fix the mill wheel. Quiet as possible, you crept in—

And there she was, sitting up in the dark futon, blanket to her chin, big eyes blinking.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

You slipped in beside her, and she immediately curled into you like she’d been missing a puzzle piece.

“I tried counting sheep,” she whispered. “But none of them smelled like you.”