51. Intrusion

Sinclair's deep breath tickles my hair as he sleeps. I twist in his arms to look watch him. He looks rather peaceful when he sleeps. His full brows aren't knotted together or furrowed and his lips are parted slightly.

His hair is tousled, both from my fingers and sleep. I smile and tap his nose, snickering to myself.

Think I might have tired him out, if such a thing is possible. He's drifted in and out of sleep for the past two hours, awakening only to draw me close once more.

Much later, after his ministrations, he brought dinner. He devoured it eagerly, while I nibbled, my belly feeling filled with things that weren't food.

It had been surprising to see push the plates aside and fall asleep within seconds of eating. So yes, perhaps, I wore him out.

I start to rise out of bed when his arm tightens around me. "Where are you going?" he murmurs sleepily, his words a soft slur.

"Kitchen. I'm thirsty," I practically croak. My voice is like granite, and my throat hurts.

We had tried other