I lie alone and watch you sleep
I'd reach for you but I might weep
If you should tell me I must keep
Away, away, away
He found her curled up on the sofa, her arm arm wrapped tightly around the large, multi-colored cushion she'd brought in earlier in the day (to lighten the mood, she'd claimed). Only a small amount of light allowed him to take in the scene in front of him, the thick curtains blocking out all but a glimpse of moonlight. Lindsey had sent the cameramen home an hour and a half ago, after they'd started emitting disgruntled murmurings about how late it was, and he'd spent his time since then trying to perfect the tone on a new guitar part he'd come up with. Unsatisfactorily. Leaning against the doorframe, he smiled as Stevie let out some bizarre kind of snuffling noise and shifted, burrowing her head into another of the plush cushions.
"Stevie?" he whispered, kneeling by her, a hand light on her shoulder. "Stevie, time to wake up." Her brow furrowed and she smacked her lips, causing Lindsey no small amount of amusement. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and when his knee clicked (oh god, he wasn't that old, was he?) and he tried to get back up to his feet, he found a small hand clutching his forearm, trying to stop him.
"No. Sleep now." Her eyes still closed, she held tightly to him, a nail pressing a light mark onto his skin. "Linds, sleep."
Lindsey looked around the room, its darkness and quiet stillness reflective of the entire house's state of being right at that minute, and he sighed. It WAS late, after all. He'd told Kristen not to expect him home early; that they had lots of work to complete. Surely he could afford to stay just a little longer...
"Mmmpf. C'mon, plenty of room." And his ex-girlfriend patted the couch awkwardly with a limp hand, squinting one eye open and peering at him.
"Karen?"
"Told her to go ages ago. You'll take me home, right? Wanted to stay and watch you."
"Well, how did that work for you, what with you being in a different room, sleeping like the dead?" he smirked.
"Think I'll always do my recording with you like this from now on. Much more peaceful," she said, her words slurring as she grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt. "Tired, Lindsey. Have a nap."
And so he carefully laid down on the sofa, his body a mere inch from touching Stevie's, his eyes looking right into hers. His feet were hanging off the edge but he couldn't bring himself to care overly much. It wasn't particularly comfortable but... She smiled at him, her fingers trailing along his shirt collar, her thumb occasionally touching the bare skin there, a light caress. So normal and so not. Not now. He watched as her movements slowed and her hand fell away from him, her eyes closing. And she slept again.
He watched her for a long time, his hands aching to come to rest on her waist, to draw her closer to him. He wanted to have her head on his chest, her legs entwined with his, her soft lips leaving a smudge of lipstick on his neck. She'd been happy today, teasing him, being affectionate but this physical longing was something he tried not to indulge in too often - it had led too far a couple of times in the past few years with unpleasant results (doors slamming, slapped cheeks, so many angry tears, recriminations and the terrible, terrible guilt). No, he couldn't hold her like that now. Because while they had both given in before to that temptation, they'd also both resisted and refused. It was always a possibility.
Lindsey hated being resisted and he hated being refused. Rejection from Stevie was a familiar feeling. And a constant fear. So he watched her sleep, the time passing slowly as they lay together quietly, her soft breathing and the chime of the clock in the hallway the only interruptions to the contented silence of their peace.
