That night, Lucien slept in short pieces.
Not the kind of sleep that restores you just the kind that keeps your eyes from burning the next day.
Alexander stayed close the whole time. He didn't say much after the pamphlets were gathered and spread across the desk like evidence. He didn't need to. His silence was loud enough, and his hands steady on Lucien's shoulders, warm at his waist said what his mouth wouldn't.
I'm here. I'm not letting go.
Sometime past midnight, Lucien turned in the bed and found Alexander watching him in the dark.
Lucien blinked sleepily. "Why are you awake?"
Alexander's thumb traced his cheekbone with a gentleness that didn't match the sharpness in his eyes. "Because you are."
Lucien huffed softly. "I'm fine."
Alexander's mouth brushed his. A slow kiss. Familiar. Grounding. "You're not."
Lucien sighed, then curled closer anyway, pressing his forehead into Alexander's throat. "I hate being watched."
"I know."
