Ever since our first night together, I can’t sleep properly when Kurt’s not in bed with me. My arms feels empty when they aren’t holding him.
I look up, startled, thinking of the blanket roll wrapped around Kurt’s waist, his spine pressed up against the couch back. Is that why he needs to sleep on a couch now – because it makes him feel like I’m spooning him?
Sighing pensively, I set the journal back on the desk before getting into bed. A flick of the switch restores the room to darkness.
I close my eyes, willing sleep to come, but my mind is jumbled with thoughts of Kurt. It’s only when I grab the spare pillow, holding it tight against my chest, that I can finally drift off to sleep.