Fiction: Come to Bed (410 words)

02 Apr

He came out of the back room still rubbing the sleep out of one eye, hair sticking up the wrong way all over the left side of his head, dressed only in a grey tank top and a pair of green boxer shorts.  “Hon?” His voice was gravelly with sleep.

“Hold on a sec.” She typed furiously for another thirty seconds, clicked twice, and then looked up at her husband. “Yes?”

“It’s four am,” He said simply, letting his arm fall to his side.

“What? No, it isn’t,”  She protested.  He pointed at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and she stared at it disbelieving for a second, before looking at her computer’s clock to double-check.  4:09 AM.  “Oh, my goodness. It’s four am.”

“I try not to lie to you, just as a general rule you know, keeping up with that whole ‘healthy relationship’ thing we were trying to have.” He was waking up enough to start being sarcastic, and she was hit with a small wave of guilt. He had to leave the house in less than four hours.  He should still be peacefully asleep.  “Are you almost done? Or at least done for the night?”

“Yeah.” She saved and shut down everything quickly. “Yeah, no I’m coming. Don’t wake up.”

He laughed, watching her gather her things quickly, “Do you think I’m sleepwalking?”

“No—but don’t wake up any more than you have so you can fall back asleep quickly so that you won’t be tired and crabby tomorrow.”  She tucked everything away so that they would have a place to eat breakfast in the morning, then walked willingly into her husband’s embrace.  “I’ll feel bad if you are crabby tomorrow because I lost track of time.”

He leaned over and kissed her softly on the forehead. “Hey, as long as I wake up next to you—no reason to be crabby.”

“Still—“ she began to insist, but he just smiled and started to walk back towards their room, pulling her gently along.

“Get a lot of work done? Was it a productive couple of hours since I went to bed?”

“Yeah. I got a lot done.”

“Well, then it’s worth it.  Now, come on, you can kiss me back to sleep.”

“Was that meant to be dirty?”  She teased, crawling under the covers.

He laughed, and kissed her once more, “Only if you want it to be, dear. Or, actually, especially if you want it to be.”

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Posted by on April 2, 2014 in Stories


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