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Not watching you sleep...

The early morning light seeped gently into the room granting the scene a dappled luminescence that seemed almost magical to him.

He hadn't been able to sleep, which was unusual for him. He usually slept like a rock for a solid eight hours a night. But tonight had been different.

Tonight he had felt happier than he could ever remember and had lain awake willing time to stop, listening to the deep regular breaths beside him.

In a slow and controlled movement, keen not to wake her, he turned and raised himself slightly to look at her.

All that was visible, burrowed into the duvet as she was, was her nose, mouth and her right eye. Even this much was partially obscured by rogue strands of her shoulder-length brown hair.

He reached out a hand and delicately brushed her hair from her face. She flinched slightly and retreated further into her sleep-hollow.

"You're not watching me sleep are you?" she asked without opening her eyes. Her voice had only the slightest trace of grogginess and he could only assume she had been awake for a while. He grinned widely even as his cheeks flushed red.

"No" he replied with mock indignation, "don't be stupid. Why would I do that?"

She opened one eye and fixed him with a curled half smile. God, he loved seeing that little smile."Because you're a certifiable psycho and I should throw you out of my bed?" she suggested. He snorted dramatically.

"Right, first off," he began, brushing her hair from her face, "this is my room, and if anyone's drifting a few miles south of sanity, it's you, you crazy bitch." he bent down to kiss her and was rewarded with another curled half-smile. Even lying in bed, his knees felt a little weak.

The light in the room flickered for a moment. The colour drained from his face.

"No," he whispered hoarsely as the scene started to fade, "No, it's too soon. It's not enough time." Surprised, she rose from the pillow and reached to touch his cheek, to calm him. He felt the feathery touch of her fingers as she drifted out of reality.

"It's not enough time! Bring her back!" he roared, transfixed on her face, willing her back into existence with every ounce of his being. He reached up to his cheek where he could still feel the ghostly touch of her hand. His fingers hung there for a moment before he slumped to the bed.

"Adam." The voice was familiar, gentle and concerned but had a touch of steel to it. Adam looked up at where his friend Joseph stood, hand resting on the now-inactive adaptive simulator.

"Adam," Joseph sighed, "please, you can't keep doing this. She's gone man. You can't keep bringing her back like this. Plus, you," Joe raised his hand to form speech marks with his fingers, "borrowed this like two weeks ago dude. I've got shit I wanna watch too."

Adam heard but didn't respond. He lay on the bed gently shaking with grief. Joseph sighed again, unhooked the device, and tucked it under his arm.

"I'm taking it back now, ok?" He waited a moment for a reply before leaving and softly closing the door.

He stood in the hallway outside the room for a moment with his AS player before heaving a despairing sigh.

"Jesus," he swore, rolling his eyes, "some guys just can't get dumped."

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