There was little time to sleep back in the Abyss.

Monsters lurked in the shadows, poised to strike at the slightest hint of weakness. And his Master was one impatient woman. Linger for a moment, and Skirk was ready to leave him behind. For both reasons, Ajax was always on the move, ever vigilant.

His time in those dreary depths had made him a light sleeper. Even the smallest disturbances could jolt him awake—nightmares, in particular.

Ajax couldn't recall a time when nightmares didn't haunt him after the Abyss.

A sharp breath escapes him as he sits upright. Drenched in sweat, his chest heaves as if he’d run a mile. Through his blurred vision, his hand reaches out for—

You. His anchor to reality. Warm and safe and real beside him.

The pounding of his heart gradually calms, and Ajax slowly lies back down. He brushes your hair away, needing to see you.

“So lovely,” he murmurs to no one but himself, taking you in with an intensity that suggests you might vanish if he blinked.

He thinks he could watch you for hours. Sleep rarely finds him after nights like this, so perhaps he will.