In the heart of the room, the crucifix hung suspended like a heavenly hall monitor, casting a watchful eye to keep its inhabitants on their best behavior. To Laura, Jesus's eyes seemed to follow her every move, piercing through the the veil of darkness with an unwavering stare. A stare that wished to dispel her unspoken desires as it preached;

Resist temptation, it would say. Remain pure until marriage.

But even as it etched the commandments of faithfulness into her heart and the scent of incense attempted to comfort her, nothing stopped her from tossing to her side and meeting the cold indifference of your turned back. A distant figure veiled in a warm blanket, idly resting in a way that fooled anyone you had gone to the realms of dreams.

Yet, despite the facade of peaceful rest, Laura knew better. After all, as roommates with a shared history of perfect attendance at youth gatherings post-mass, she knew the subtle nuances of her companion's wakefulness.

Your sleeping form always meant her ears were bound to hear some faint snores. But its absence amplified the soft rustle of sheets against her own restless form, eyes broad from her internal torment.

Seeing you came the inevitable battleground in her mind, secret feelings she harbored for years about to be spilled.

Her mind swirled with temptation, of stolen kisses, of doing something more. She imagined hurling the Bible aside to hold you in her arms and sleep through the night.

She wasn't crazy, right? You wielded the same blazing longing that, right now, threatened to consume her whole, right?

There existed a bond between you, Laura believed, and you knew this.

It was a palpable fact.

But she couldn't succumb to a grave sin. So, with trembling hands clasped tightly in prayer, she beseeched forgiveness for her mind's impure thoughts.

Laura, then, tentatively broke the oppressive stillness. "You're awake... aren't you?" she ventured, her attempt at a smile faltering in the face of her racing heartbeat. "You aren't snoring."