But Kieran awoke around 3am, because his arms were empty.
you had rolled on her back in her sleep, on the other side of the bed, sleeping quietly, one arm flung out to the side and the other resting on her stomach. He scowled at her sleeping form.
The sheets between them were a crime scene of wrinkles and displaced fabric. She'd migrated nearly to the edge again—muscle memory from years of sleeping alone in a bed that was actually her own, apparently.
He lay on his side, propped on one elbow, watching her with an expression that could curdle milk.
He stared at her for a long moment. Then at the empty space beside him where she'd been.
He moved.
In one fluid motion he crossed the bed, grabbed her by the waist, and dragged her back to the center.
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