You don’t know what it is that rouses you so late at night, but you find yourself opening your eyes to find the bed next to you empty like it was before you went to sleep. Lazily your eyes travel to the clock and you groan seeing the ungodly hour of night… early morning. Whichever one wanted to call it.
The sheets are cold on the other side so you decide to go investigate where the occupier of the left side of the bed was.Â
You pull on your robe and tie it as you shuffle down the stairs in your slippers. The light is on in the kitchen and you find Stanford sitting at the table with research papers sprawled across the table. His body is hunched over it, one hand to his forehead, fingers tangling into his curly brown locks while the other is jotting down notes.
The man hasn’t gotten sleep in a few days- this would have to be the fourth consecutive all-nighter. You decide to force him to come to bed instead of finding him passed out later and putting a blanket on him like you’ve been doing the past three days.
You quietly ask him to come to bed as you begin massaging his shoulders in hopes of getting him to relax a little.
“Nearly done, sweetheart. Just give me a few more minutes,” he replies absentmindedly.
You make a face and make a comment on how he’s said this very thing for the past three days.
“I’m sure I’m close this time,” he replies.
You hug him around his shoulders and rest your chin on his shoulder. Your eyes scan the papers and it all looks like gibberish at the moment- you blame your exhaustion for being unable to read his short-hand chicken-scratch.
You whisper that he should get sleep.
“I’m not tired,” he insists.
You nuzzle his neck and murmur the suggestion to do something that will assure that he gets tired out.
You can feel the heat rising in his face and seeping down his neck. “Like what?”
You decide to toy with him just a little and tell him to follow you to the bedroom with no explanation.
He obediently follows and turns off the television after himself.
You tell him to get into the bed and you feel a little smug at his continued obedience. Had you been more awake you might have taken advantage of this.
You crawl into bed and let your slippers fall off the edge. You sit in his lap and slowly take off the robe and toss it aside. You were in a modest nightgown but that didn’t stop his gaze from trailing over you.
You lean forward with your arms wrapping around his neck and give him a chaste kiss before resting your head on his shoulder. He makes a confused noise, but you settle onto him sleepily.
“You’re going to fall asleep on me?” He asks incredulously.
You insist that if he’s still enough for a long enough period of time he will grow tired and fall asleep at some point.
He chuckles at your logic and wraps his arms around you. His chin soon rests on the top of your head.
“I suppose that’s sound logic… goodnight, my dear,” he murmurs and then kisses the top of your head.
You smile and murmur a goodnight as he pulls the covers up to cover the both of you.