Page 99 of The Words Beneath the Noise

“Yes. Absolutely. Any moment now.”

“Art.”

“Mm?”

“You snore.”

I pulled back to stare at him. “I do not.”

“You absolutely do. Gentle snoring. Like a kitten with a head cold.”

“That's. That's the most insulting thing anyone's ever said to me.”

“Really? That's the worst? Not all the times people called you odd or difficult or too much?”

“Those were accurate. This is slander.” I poked his chest. “Also, you talk in your sleep.”

“I do not.”

“You do. Kept muttering about coordinates and firing solutions. Very romantic.”

“Liar.”

“I never lie. I'm terrible at it. You know this.”

He caught my hand, threaded his fingers through mine. “Your elbows are bony. They're like weapons. I've been stabbed repeatedly.”

“Your feet are freezing. Like blocks of ice. I thought I was sharing a bed with a corpse.”

“You hog blankets.”

“You radiate heat like a furnace. I was overheating.”

We were both grinning now, stupid and bright, and the panic from earlier had eased into something manageable. This. This I could do. Banter and touch and the growing certainty that he wasn't going to run.

That maybe we really were allowed to have this.

A sharp knock on my door made us both freeze.

“Art!” Noor's voice, muffled but distinct. “You alive in there? It's Christmas breakfast and Finch is making speeches about seasonal goodwill. You're missing a historic moment of him pretending to be human.”

Tom and I stared at each other, both suddenly very aware of how this looked. Him in my bed. Me obviously disheveled. Both of us barely dressed.

“One moment!” I called back, voice strangled.

“You sound weird. You alright?”

“Fine! Just. Give me five minutes!”

Her footsteps retreated, and we both exhaled.

“That was close,” Tom muttered.

“Too close.” I was already scrambling out of bed, grabbing clothes at random. “We need to. You need to leave. Separately. Different times. Can't be seen together.”

“Art. Breathe.” He stood, started pulling on his own clothes with frustrating calm. “We'll handle it. You go first, I'll wait ten minutes and use the back stairs. No one will know.”

“Everyone will know. They'll take one look at my face and know exactly what happened.”