The room was quiet.
Atlas laid on his back, with his head staring straight at the ceiling. Aveline had her back turned to him.
He couldn't sleep. He didn't want to sleep. There were a lot of other things he would rather be doing.
Now that the rain had stopped, there was no excuse to be closer to her. But even apart, he still felt her.
The slow rise of her breath, the natural scent of her skin mixed mildly with his soap, even the weight of her body on his bed.
Every movement or none movement sent a ripple of excitement through him.
He wanted her far beyond his desire for his next breath, and it almost broke his heart that she might not want the same thing.
Aveline felt his consciousness. She knew he wasn't asleep, because his breath was still very steady.
Each second of the night got more torturous than the last.
The problem was she was too aware. She felt everything. In overwhelming quantities too.
