Plus-Sized Assassin
The concept was foreign to him, unusual, terrifying even, because he never slept.
Sleep was something he had long resigned himself to living without. Insomnia was practically woven into his very existence; it was part of being a creature like him, a supernatural being navigating the human world, and some of the atrocities he had committed in his time hadn’t really helped matters as well. It was his new order of the day.
But then something about her had soothed him, lulled him. Her presence and their vigorous night had wrapped around him, calm and comforting, until his in-built resistance had crumbled, and he’d succumbed to sleep.
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