Hey. We've already established that I don't sleep, either.

( those sweaty nights tangled in his sheets, jolting awake from nightmares that never really went away. it was better some nights — like when he'd crashed here — but the hurt was always waiting beneath the surface, a sea monster waiting in the depths, hungry to swallow you whole if you took the wrong step. something's starting to tell him that karen can relate. )

So being sleepless with company is an improvement on being sleepless alone, I figure. It's no trouble. And it's kind of my fault anyway. I texted you about dogs.

( he's half-smiling; a wry, self-conscious kind of humour. )