Go to bed together

We didn’t stay on the couch long after.

Veronica eventually climbed off my lap, legs a little shaky, and held out her hand. I took it without thinking. We left our clothes where they’d fallen and walked down the short hallway to my room. The bed was still unmade from that morning. It didn’t matter.

She crawled in first and held the covers up for me. I slid in beside her and pulled her against my chest. She fit there perfectly — small and warm and soft in all the places I’d spent weeks trying not to stare at. For a long time we just lay there in the dark, her head on my shoulder, one of her legs hooked over mine.

Neither of us said much. We didn’t need to. The quiet felt heavier than it used to, but not in a bad way. It felt like something we were both choosing to carry together.

At some point she fell asleep with her face tucked into my neck. I stayed awake a little longer, one hand slowly stroking her back, listening to her breathe.