Having a full night's sleep still doesn’t sit right with him. After years of avoiding it, running away from the nightmares, the voice of his brother, and the waters that still haunt him, his body finds it easier to stay active as much as possible. Even now, nineteen years later, the best he can do is four, maybe five hours of sleep every night. Not always consecutive, but it’s better than the alternative.
So he stares at the ceiling and waits. For his mind to shut down or his brain to start working on something that will keep him occupied long enough to leave his bed at a reasonable hour. It’s still dark, barely two bells, so he knows he has a long way to go, but it doesn’t bother him as much anymore. He enjoys those days when he can linger a little longer in his bed, not feeling so alone anymore, even though he is the only one awake.
Well, at least he thinks he is.
Kaz feels her presence as soon as she enters the room, but he doesn’t move. Perhaps he should; she usually doesn’t come at this time of night, and her mere presence might be a sign of trouble, but still, he stays where he is. This is a game for them, of a sort. Kaz always knows when she’s here and when she leaves and she, persistent like no one else, still tries to sneak up on him and catch him by surprise.
She never manages to.