I roll over in bed and look at the clock. It is half past midnight and, for someone very exhausted, I am not remotely tired.
I reverse across the bed, pushing my back into MindReader’s chest. Immediately, he bends his legs, pressing his knees into the back of mine and drapes and arm around me.
I smile and roll over in his arms. I look at the way his blond eyebrows glint in the dim light. I touch the skin on his elbows, because I’m not sure I ever have before, and am surprised by how soft it is. I trace a finger up his chest, marveling at how dark the hair is for a blond.
I reach very quietly for my camera. I feel I must capture the peaceful expression on his face, the way his top lip protrudes ever so slightly.
I take a photo.
MindReader’s eyes open immediately.
“Billygean WHAT are you doing?”
