You watch him sleep in your bed (neither of you can sleep alone, anymore, and you don't think you would want to even if you could), his chest rising and falling with his slow, even breathing. It's sad, you think, that he still doesn't seem relaxed. Even in sleep he's afraid to be vulnerable, afraid that the monsters will strike in the darkness.

You gently run your fingers down his spine but he doesn't wake, and you feel the familiar spasm of guilt and regret stir from deep within your chest. You push it aside like you always do, because you reason with yourself that this is nothing more than two friends helping each other to fight away the monsters in the darkness.