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I really hope I don’t ever have to say goodbye to moments like these again. I want all of them, always.

“Let’s get to sleep then.”

We walk hand in hand to her bedroom, and then I help her out of her pants until we both have the same amount of clothes on. She’s still smiling at me, like my being here is the best thing to happen to her.

I’ve forgotten all about the rage I felt when I was first woken up. If she hadn’t done that, I’d still be oblivious and unaware of just how cute she is tonight. It would’ve been a tragedy for me to miss.

We climb into her bed, and our arms go right back to being around each other.

“You look way too happy to be my girlfriend. What did you do with her?”

“You make me happy, you idiot. Don’t ruin it.”

“Is that what it is? Not that you take pleasure from ruining my sleep schedule? Just like old times?”

She laughs breathily, and my arms tighten around her.

“I love you so much,” I whisper.

“I thought I was an evil woman,” she teases.

“Both of those things can be true at the same time.”

Her head tilts up, and she captures my lips in a kiss that’s filled with heat, and emotion. All of the things she put off telling me for so long. Every word I pried from her, and every little thing about herself that she shared with me willingly. The unfiltered joy that we got here, after how brutal and complicated our path has been.

“I love you so much, sunshine.”

"I love you, too," I say, already dozing off.

Until a thought occurs to me that I should have brought up before now.

"Wait, what is with the music? You never told me?"

"Oh… long story. Not worth telling."

I sit up, facing her with my most determined look.

"We've got all the time in the world. Tell me why you tortured me for so long."

She lean in to kiss my cheek, surprising me.

"You sure you want to know?" Kara asks.

"Yes, I'm sure!"

She chuckles.

"I used to have to block out the sound of my mother's… nighttime activities. By the time I moved out, I was so used to doing it that I couldn't sleep without it. It made anxious that I'd something I didn't want to hear whenever it was silent."

I sit with that for a minute, filled with a combination of horror and sadness. I couldn't begin to imagine how bad things must have been for her to blast the music at her preferred volume.

I don't have the heart to ask what age that started.

"That's awful," I say, at a loss for any more than that.

She pulls me in again, squeezing.

"Not as awful as me keeping you and Dahlia up at night. Sorry, again, by the way."