You'll be the Death of Me

Chapter 77

Love. He had said love. Graces sat by the desk and watched Neville as he slept. She knew he didn't love her, it wasn't possible for him to. And yet, here she was sitting in the dark thinking about it. She hadn't been able to stop thinking of it since he proclaimed it. Her hands moved absently to the chain around her neck holding the gift Neville had given her so long ago. At least she felt like it was long ago.

She could hear Neville stirring from his sleep and sat up slightly as he disorientedly sat up and looked around the room for her.

"What time is it?" Neville yawned, rubbing his eyes from sleep and trying to focus on her.

"It's very late."

"Late and cold."

Graces nodded and tucked her legs closer to her chest. She hadn't realized how chilled the air was till now, but her feet beneath her felt like ice.

"Come to bed."

It was said so tenderly she felt compelled to listen. She stood up from the chair as Neville opened the blankets for her to come in, pulling her closer to him as she moved on top of the bed. He held her like he did every night: close to his broad chest and with strong arms that wrapped her up into him.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

He was obviously tired; she could hear the weariness in his voice and the hand that was stroking her head seemed to be slowing as he fought sleep.

"It's nothing."

"It very rarely is nothing with you," Neville chuckled, smiling against the top of her head. He was smelling her hair. He always fell asleep smelling her hair.

"Do I smell good?"

"Heavenly."

She smiled against his chest and soon after the joy she felt diminished as she remembered what he had said to her last night. I'm in love with you.

"Oh, so it's that bad."

"What do you mean?" She moved away from him so she could see his face.

"You hold me tighter when something is wrong."

"I do?"

"Yeah, you do," Neville grinned, his eyes closed as though he wondered close to sleep. "I like it though. Makes me feel needed."

"You are needed," Graces whispered, placing her hand on his cheek.

Neville gave a tired laugh and pulled her back into him for sleep. She couldn't though. She laid there and wondered if what he said was true.

"Neville... Neville."

Neville made some noise that sounded like a mix between a groan and whimper.

"I'm sorry. Nevermind."

"No-no. I'm up. I'm up." Graces began to protest, but Neville already had sat up in the bed, spelled some light and was drinking her glass of water, his was already empty, to wake up. After a few moments he waved his hand lazily encouraging her to talk.

"Let's just go to bed," Graces flushed.

"Graces, you know I'm not a morning person right? And also, that unlike you, I can't sleep through natural disasters."

"I don't—"

"You do. Once you're out, you're out. And then you wake up unnaturally early. Now, lately I've been waking up super early and going to bed super late, and it's killing me. It really is, Graces. I need sleep. Need," Neville stressed. "So please, Graces, for my sake. Just tell me what's wrong."