Between the time I had returned the items to their proper places and had been about to head up the stairwell for my own bed, he called to me in the darkness. "Sit with me awhile, Damos."
He was slouched a bit, and somewhat weary I could tell, when I approached and he fell beneath the telltale light of the moons. And he was holding his own hand as if he had injured it somehow.
I did not speak any reply, but simply curled myself up right beside him on the divan. For I sensed that he needed no more than a body to cling to in that very ihn. A body who did not make any further attempt to lull him from his own silent and brooding thoughts.
Some moments after I had slid my arm around his waist and laid my head to his shoulder damp with sweat, Domitian kissed me. Long kisses that spanned a good length of time, until he decided he needed no more.
"Goodnight, Damos," he whispered to me, before he too, made his ascent up the stairs to join Papillion in sleep.
