Chapter 13

The day before I was leaving for Norway, James dropped by with his Christmas gift. It was a big, flat squared box that rattled faintly when I shook it. In return he received a rectangle box that didn't rattle at all. He didn't stay long, as he was in a typical pre-Christmas state of manic stress, having things to sort out and gifts to buy. We said hurried goodbyes and my door slammed shut in front of me. I realised I might not see him again for weeks, and already missed him.

            Going back to Norway was like going back to a different, but familiar life. Having moved to England had been like starting afresh, nobody knew me, or thought they knew me, and nobody knew my history. Hence nobody had any prejudices or misconceptions about me, I was a blank page and could just be who I wanted to be. It was nice seeing my dad, my siblings and my nephews and nieces again, I understood how much I had missed them. And looking at the kids to whom I was an aunt, I realised just how fast time flies. I hadn't been gone for more than three and a half months, but they'd grown and changed so much. Even though I had missed my family, it didn't take long before I missed England again. I missed London, I missed my job, my colleagues and the patients, and most of all I missed James.

            I was a good girl and held off unwrapping James' present for a long time. I let my nieces and nephews unwrap theirs, and we got them all to bed. Then it was the adults' turn, and we took turns unwrapping presents. My sister Elin and her husband Ken, my brother Eric and his wife Marianne, my dad and me. James' present was the last one in the pile, and everyone looked at me, wondering who it was from. I answered that it was my best mate back in England, and unwrapped it nervously. On top was an old, battered piano note-book. "Classical piano for beginners". I opened it, and there was a message hand-written on the first page. "This was my first piano book, I had it when I started learning. It's never too late to start playing again. Maybe your mum would even want you to? You're always welcome to come rehearse at my place. X James." The thought had never even occurred to me, that my mum would probably want me to start playing again, that she'd be happy to hear me play again. And I realised he was right, and I wanted to start playing again right now. Surprised I found myself having to swallow hard and make an effort not to cry. Underneath the battered piano book was a thick vinyl box set. The front said "Tom Waits - Orphans; Bawlers, Brawlers & Bastards." I'd wanted this set for ages, this particular album set was my absolute favourite by Tom Waits and I knew I'd said so to James, although I couldn't remember when. I didn't know what I had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. It was perfect. It was something I wanted, but not something I had specifically asked for, he had just paid attention at the right time. James had even admitted to having listened to Tom Waits quite a bit after he'd heard it from me. And the piano book meant so much to me, it was a long time since I'd been so touched by anything anyone had given me.

            The next day I got a message from James, late in the afternoon. It was a phone picture of him, with one of his sister, apparently outside, and he was wearing one of my presents for him. I had spent most of my quiet evening shifts, and boring evenings at home, knitting a huge scarf for him. It was stripey and resembled the scarf the fourth Doctor Who had worn. His cheeks were red from cold, but he looked happy, and handsome being bundled up in the big, fluffy scarf. I had also given him two books by Jared Diamond, the one about social evolution as well as the one about sex, just to throw him off a bit. The message said "Loved your presents, best gifts I had all Xmas. Sex-book slightly embarrassing in front of parents, though, even if I am a grown man. Have a good Christmas, come home soon. Hugs." The fact that he had written "come home soon" made me smile, because London suddenly felt just as much like home as Norway did. I enjoyed being home, catching up with the family and meeting a few friends, sleeping in and not having to go to work or school. But it didn't take long before I felt restless and uneasy, like I was out of place. Secretly I wanted to book a flight back and go to Richard's New Years Eve party, but I didn't have the heart to leave so soon. So I didn't book a flight back until January 3rd, which meant I still I had 9 days off when I got back to London. The day before New Years, when I'd finally managed to come to a decision and book that flight, I decided to call James.

"Frozen to death yet?" Was the first thing he said.

"Almost. Steady minus 20 outside, I'm spending most of my time by the oven in the living room as if I was an arthritic dog," I muttered sourly.

"Balmy plus three over here," he said, sounding gleeful.

"Gee, thanks. Listen, I just called to say I'm not going back to London just yet. Could you let Richard know I'm not coming to his party? I don't have his number. And tell him I'm sorry, I would've loved to be there. I just think they'd be a bit miffed over here if I left so soon."

"Oh, all right. I'll let him know." He did a bad job of hiding the disappointment in his voice.

"So, how are you? Had a good Christmas so far?" I changed the subject.

"Yeah, it's been good. Quiet. Had way too much fruit cake, I'm getting fat," he fretted.

"Aw, is mum spoiling you rotten?" I teased.

"Just a bit. I had to get out of there before I couldn't get into my jeans. Am in the garage now, just.. fiddling. Going down to Hammond's tomorrow, going to help a bit with preparations."

"That's nice of you. Believe me, I would rather be there than here. I'm just..."

"... Too nice to let anyone down," he finished.

"Yeah... something like that."

"Apart from being cold, how has your Christmas been then?"

"Much like yours, quiet and with too much food. Met up with some friends and such. Played around in the snow with my nieces and nephews, lost a snowball fight badly. Sat down by mum's old piano and played a bit, actually."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm. It's a bit out of tune though, drives me mad." For a moment the line went quiet. "I won't disturb your fiddling anymore. Just wanted to let you know about the party."

"You're not disturbing me. When are you coming back?"

"January 3rd. But I'm not going back to work until the 12th so I'm trying to come up with something to do in the meantime. I should see more of England really, I've hardly seen any of it. Maybe I should just.. go on trains all around the country, or rent a car. I can't sit still for over a week in my apartment..."

"Sounds like a good idea?"

"Anyway, sorry for ranting. You have fun at the party, all right? Say hi to people from me, wish everyone a happy new year."

"All right, I will."

"And no one get hurt or start bleeding, I won't be around to fix it."

"Are you worrying about me, now?" James' voice gave away that he was smiling.

"Just a bit."

"I like that..." He fell silent for a moment, then seemed to rally himself. "Listen, enjoy the rest of your time in Norway and with your family."

"I'll try," I sighed unhappily.

"Is it that bad?"

"I don't know, I'm probably just a miserable git, I feel like the Grinch. I'm restless, and most of all fucking cold all the time, and I miss my flat, and London, and proper beer, and you, and..." Wait, what? Did I just say that? I swallowed hard, trying to get my heart down back into my chest. It wouldn't budge. I couldn't breathe, and in that millisecond of silence I panicked and even thought about just hanging up. Thankfully, James' voice came through and pulled me back from a full blown panic attack.

"Well, for what it's worth... I miss you too."

"...yeah?" I breathed nervously, sounding hopeful.

"Yeah, I do," he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world to say for him. He fell silent for a while, and when he started talking again he sounded different, as if he was in a hurry to get off the phone."It's just for another few days, you'll be back here in no time. I'll see you when you get back, all right?"

"I.. yeah, I'm sure you're right," I said, too perplex to know what to answer. This wasn't how I'd wanted the conversation to continue. How could he just say he missed me too, just like that, and not say anything else? "I'll.. see you in a few days, I guess."

 "You will. Bye, Emily."

"All right. Bye, James." The line went silent. I stared at my phone for a minute, still flummoxed by the end to that conversation. My mind was going into analyzing overdrive, calculating all possible variables; inflection, choice of words, pauses. In the end I concluded that he'd just meant "like a friend". He missed me as a friend. It was a perfectly legitimate thing to say to a good friend, wasn't it? Saying you missed them? Yeah, that had to be it. I cursed myself for getting excited, for thinking he meant it differently.

Everyone was going to my brother's house for New Years eve. Eric lived close to my dad's house, where I had been staying the past week. His apartment was over my dad's auto garage, it had a 2nd floor balcony and would have a much better view of the fireworks being launched in my tiny, rural town. We had a big, noisy family dinner where my two nieces and two nephews got most of the attention, which suited me fine. I was brooding, and trying to hide it. I hated New Years Eve, I had for as long as I could remember. After my mum had died, I'd spent quite a few New Years Eve's on my own, because my dad was a fireman and always got called out about thirty minutes to midnight, when the first rocket veered off into a nearby house. Everyone was always so cheerful and in a party-mood, talking about a new year, fresh starts and new opportunities. But all I could feel was melancholy. Another year passed and I often felt like I hadn't gone anywhere. Nothing had really happened, apart from another year going by. Even though a lot had happened in the past few years, I'd finished my education, done my stint in Syria, and had now moved to a different country and had a new job. A lot had happened, if I just thought it over. But something was still missing. I was missing my mum. And my mate who had died. And this year I was missing James, too, and he was alive. He just wasn't here. And knowing he missed me, in whatever way he meant it, just made it worse. My family was used to my moods and just left me alone, I'd spent all my teenage years being the very definition of an angst-ridden teenager. And they knew how I felt about New Year's as well. I managed to keep my brooding to a minimum as long as the kids were awake, but when they weren't around to distract me anymore it all became too much. I wasn't enjoying myself, I just wanted to be alone in my New Years misery, and decided to go back to dad's house. I made an excuse about not feeling well and having a banging headache, but they probably knew I was just a bit miserable and wanted peace and quiet. Hopefully they had learned not to take it personally by now, too. I made the half mile walk back, bundled in my enormous down jacket, listening to music on my iPod. It felt good to walk, even if it was freezing cold, or maybe because it was. It cleared my thoughts a bit. And it made coming inside, into the dark warmth of dad's living room, so much better. I curled up in his big, comfy recliner with a glass of warm, mulled wine. The only lights on in the room was the lights on the Christmas tree, the fire burning in the stove, and the window decorations. I sighed loudly to myself, turned on Pink Floyd and drew the blanket a little closer around me. Not exactly Christmas music, but the song had some good memories. In a moment of insanity I tried calling James. The phone was turned off. He was probably too busy drinking in a huge castle up in Herefordshire. I realised that even in my own private thoughts, I sounded bitter. I allowed myself to wallow in jealous thoughts for a bit, imagining James surrounded by gorgeous, party-clad women in a romantic Christmas castle in the countryside. I felt that awful sting in my chest that comes from jealousy, from hurt and longing. I turned the negative emotions inwards, directed them at myself. I had let my feelings for James become too strong and now I was paying the price for letting my heart run away with me. It wasn't his fault - he'd never made any promises, or done anything to make me believe he had feelings for me. Or had he? He'd just been there, hadn't he, been a good mate. This wasn't the first time I had confused up the two, the love of a friend and the love of a lover. I always misread signals, thinking no one could be that nice or caring without feeling something... more. Dully I thought that I was so used to taking care of myself, as soon as anyone else seemed to try to I was ready to marry them.

I had been slumbering in my chair when my phone woke me up. It was 11.30, and it was my sister calling to check up on me. She told me they were about to wake the kids up to get them dressed and ready to go outside for the fireworks.

"Really, waking children up at this hour only to drag them out in minus twenty sounds more like child torture than being good parents," I mused.

"I distinctly remember doing it to you when you were four, and I was fifteen. And you fucking loved it," she shot back. Ah, the joy of having siblings over a decade older than you. She wished me a happy new year in advance, from her and everyone else, and hung up. With a sigh I got out of dad's cushy chair. As melancholic as the whole concept of New Years' made me, I liked the fireworks, they were still kind of magical to me. So I decided I had to go outside to see them. I laboriously got into my down jacket and thermal ski-pants, put on wool socks and huge snow-boots. Even if it took ages, I had decided I was too old to freeze my arse off, not when I had clothes to prevent it. I stuffed my phone in my pocket, pulled on a big, woolly hat and mittens and waddled outside. The chill hit me like a prickly wall, but for now I could only feel it on my face. The upside of icy cold nights like these were that they were the clearest, most beautiful nights you could imagine; the stars were twinkling, the sky was black and the first fireworks were already going off in the distance with a dull wheeze and a crack. I just stood there, in the snow, staring up at the skies. A mixture of warm clothing and mulled wine kept me warm. My mind wandered, back to the familiar melancholic thoughts I always had on New Year's eve. To my past life, to friends I'd had, and grown apart from, and whom I missed. To old boyfriends, and to those I wished had become so. To old choices, and regrets and what ifs. But most of all I thought about my mum, wondering for the millionth time what my life would've looked like if she hadn't died. Different, was the only answer I had found so far, and the only answer I probably would ever get. Inevitably I thought about my friend, my soul brother and lover, despairing in the unfairness of having lost him. Why did everyone important in my life have to disappear? Then I rallied, realising how defeatist and self-pitying I sounded. Neither my mum or my mate would've been impressed with this way of thinking, and would probably have told me to get over it and get a life. While throwing snowballs at me. Even when gone, they were my biggest supporters.

"I miss you, mum. And I miss you, mate. Happy New Year's, guys." I mumbled at the skies. Something closed around my shoulders from behind, hugging me at the same time as I heard a familiar voice.
"What about me, then?" I froze, more out of shock than out of fright. Looking down I could see jacket-clad arms with mittens wrapped around me. Skin brushed against mine, a cheek I could have sworn I had felt against mine before. I wanted to turn around, but the arms were holding me tight.

"James...?" I breathed, my voice had abandoned me.

"Happy new year, Emily," he said softly in my ear, and kissed my cheek. I squealed with joy as the realisation hit me, that he was really here. Right then he couldn't have held me back no matter how much he tried - I spun around in his arms and clapped my arms around him, clinging on to him for dear life. I didn't ever want to let go, as if by letting go he'd disappear again somehow, like some figment of my hypothermic hallucinations. The hug was slightly ruined by the fact that we were both wearing huge down jackets, it felt like hugging a duvet wrapped in a sleeping bag. But his cheek against mine, even if he was cold - I could feel that. I had a million questions, but for now just hugging him was more than enough.

"Happy new year, James," I whispered against his cheek when I finally found my voice again. His lips brushed over my cheek in search for my mouth, and he kissed me gently. I prayed that he kept holding me tight, because I was sure my legs wouldn't carry me anymore. His lips disappeared, and I opened my eyes to look into his for the first time that night.

"That would've felt so much nicer if I could actually feel something, but my face is too frozen," I giggled and leaned my forehead against his.

"Couldn't feel a thing," he said, half amused and half sad. He was bundled in the scarf I had knitted for him, but shivered all the same. "Emily, I am so cold, can we please go inside now?" He pleaded.

"Yeah, me too, let's go." We stomped through the snow towards the house. James snatched up an overnight bag that he'd  left on top of the stairs as we entered the house, and the question of where the hell he'd come from flitted across my mind. The hallway felt like a sauna compared to outside, and I tore off mittens and my woolly hat as soon as I came inside, then started to peel off my winter clothing. James had been sensible enough to put on a down jacket like I had, and a pair of mittens and the scarf, but for some reason that was as far as his reasonableness went. Jeans just wasn't going to cut it in minus 20. Despite being inside, and having shed cold clothes, I still felt freezing, and James could only feel worse. The fire was still going in the stove, and I shoved a few more logs of wood in. Then I pushed the big, cushy recliner to what had been my permanent spot all Christmas; closer to the oven "Go on, sit, warm up." I pointed at the chair, and James sank down on it, stretching his arms towards the heat.

"I'd forgotten how cold minus twenty is," he shivered.

"Kind of amazing, considering you've been to the actual North Pole."

".. in a slightly warm car," he pointed out. I picked up a fleece blanket from the sofa and threw it at him.

"Want me to make some tea or something?" I asked, standing in front of James but facing the oven, also trying to revive frozen hands.

"No, just... come here," he said, impatiently tugging at my arm, pulling me closer.

"James, I.. we both can't fit in that," I giggled, but I didn't really put up much of a fight. Awkwardly I crawled into the big chair and came to rest against him, head resting on his shoulder.

"See? Works for me," he said softly and pulled the blanket over both of us. For a while we just lay there, curled up together, feeling the life and warmth slowly trickle back into our arms and legs. All I could hear was the crackle of the fire, the odd very late firework going off in the distance, and James' steady breathing. His arm was wrapped around me, holding me close. My hand was resting on his chest, sometimes fiddling absentmindedly with the zipper on his knit jumper. His free hand closed over mine, and we watched as our fingers and hands explored and played with each other, getting to know how to feel each other. Suddenly I remembered all the questions I had.

"James?"

"Mm..?" He hummed, his fingers brushing slowly over my palm, light as feathers.

"I.. Why.. How...?" I began, not managing to decide which question to ask first. I sighed, and started over. "Ok, first things first. How did you get here?"

"I caught the last plane to Oslo out of Heathrow. I landed about 8, rented a car with sat-nav."

"But how did you find me?"

"Before I left I called up one of the researchers at the Top Gear office, gave him your full name and your brother's name, and told him to find your address."

"What if he hadn't found it?"

"In the end I would have had to call you and ask, wouldn't I? I knew you couldn't be a million miles away from Oslo. Or I hoped, anyway."

"And then?"

"Steve down at the office had found your brother's address, and your dad's." I just looked at him, waiting for him to go on. "So I drove here, trusting in blind luck, really," he finished with a shrug.

"I...," I began, but my voice failed me again. Even now, with his arm wrapped around me, curled up in his lap, I couldn't believe that he was here, holding me. Couldn't fathom that he'd done such a crazy thing, that the controlled, methodical James I knew had just jumped on a flight hoping he'd find me somehow. I wanted to ask him why, what had made him come here. Maybe he read the question in my eyes, because he never had to ask it.

"On the phone... You sounded sad. I was missing you, thinking about you constantly. And when you said you missed me, too... I couldn't get that out of my head, it was driving me mad, wondering...  So I just had to see you."

"I didn't mean to say that to you. That I missed you. It just... slipped out. And after, I kept over-analysing, wondering in what way you were missing me."

"So, basically we were like two confused, insecure teenagers?" James summarised.

"I guess. I just didn't... know how you felt, and I had all these..." I drew a deep breath, preparing to finally say it out loud. "...All these feelings for you and was just scared I'd get rejected and end up losing you as a mate on top of everything." I talked quickly, as if to get it over with faster. Even though James had come all this way, even if he'd hugged me and kissed me, telling him I had feelings for him was still nerve-wracking.

"Like I said, insecure teenagers," he repeated with a little smile and ran his hand gently over my hair. The warmth in his smile made my stomach swoop with giddy happiness, and I broke out into a huge grin.

"I still can't believe you're actually here."

"I'm not sure I can, either," James admitted. "But I'm glad I'm here."

"I am, too." I buried my face against his neck, taking in his scent, and he hugged me closer. "You do realise that you coming here means you will probably have to meet the family? And even.. the parent?" I teased.

"It did cross my mind, actually. But I wouldn't let a thing like that deter me," he shrugged.

"Wow, you must've really, really wanted to see me."

"I was desperate..." he sighed, giving me a long, hard look. He caressed my cheek and cupped my face in his hand, caressing me gently with his thumb. He broke the silence with a little smile. "Can you feel your face yet?" I was only able to nod slowly, bracing for what might come next. With his hand still on my face he pulled me in closer, but stopped a few inches away from me, peering at me searchingly. It was as if he needed one more reassurance that I really wanted this. Unable to bear it any longer I closed my eyes and pressed my nervous lips against his. I could feel it this time, warm and soft lips against mine, returning my kiss, a little nervous at first. My hand slid from his chest to the back of his neck, and I tangled my fingers into his hair. I had wanted to play with his hair for so long, feel it between my fingers. We kissed slowly and tenderly, savouring every second of this moment that had been lying between us for ages, an inevitability just waiting to happen. I knew that now. That no matter how insecure we'd been about each other and our feelings, this would have happened sooner or later, it was just supposed to. We smiled at each other as we broke apart, and I caressed the side of his face, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. After a moment I realised I was just staring sappily at him, grinning stupidly, and blushed. I kissed him and rested against his shoulder again. A silence came over us in which we just enjoyed our closeness, enjoyed finally being certain of what we felt for each other.

"You know, I hate New Years," I mumbled quietly, fiddling with a lock of his hair.

"What? Why?" He asked and kissed my forehead. And I told him why; what New Years meant to me, about the melancholy and sadness it made me feel, about the people I missed, how it always made me feel empty and miserable.

"It just made feel like... Something was always missing in my life," I finished. James had listened quietly, running his hand down my back every now and then, or kissed my forehead. "But this New Years Eve..." I said and sat up slightly to look at him. "This one turned out to be a good one. For the first time since I can remember, I don't feel like I'm missing something. Because what I need is right here with me." James stared at me in silence for a while, seemingly too stunned for words. Instantly I worried that I'd gone too far, that I'd said too much and made him feel awkward or smothered, and I looked away. He noticed my insecurity and took my face in his hand again, making me look at him.

"That is why I had to come here," he said simply. "Because I need you, too." Words to express what I felt at that moment didn't exist, all I could to was hug him tightly and give him a long, lingering kiss which he returned, hugging me closer. Suddenly a question popped into my head and I kissed him one last time and then looked at him quizzically.

"What the hell did you say to Hammond and the others? You must've told them something, since you didn't show up at his New Year's Party?"

"I tried to come up with a good lie, or at least a decent and plausible excuse. In the end I just called Hammond and said that I had to be somewhere, and that I wouldn't if it wasn't important. He seemed to understand that it was important to me, at least. Wonder what he told the others..." He mused, looking a bit worried.

"I can't even begin to imagine," I laughed. James' phone suddenly came to life, vibrating in his pocket and he fished it out awkwardly.

"Speaking of," he mumbled. "Just passed midnight in England. Got a message from Hamster." We read the message together. "Happy New Year's, mate, whatever you're up to. From all of us."

"Aaw," I crooned, smirking. "You're arguing and taking the piss out of each other on the telly, but really you're just big softies."

"That is a state secret, Emily. You know you'll never be safe again now, right?" He said, amazingly keeping a straight face, which he rarely managed to keep for long.

"The ninjas will follow my every move now, I know." I rolled my eyes at him, and typically he cracked first and chuckled. I kissed him quickly and rested into his shoulder again. Sitting in this chair, so close to the fire and under a blanket was getting way too hot, but I couldn't muster up the will to move from him. "James? If we can get tickets, can we go back to London tomorrow?" I asked suddenly. He looked at me, surprised.

"But I thought you wanted to stay with your family a few more days?"

"I did. But then you showed up. And.. as much as I love my family, it's not necessarily them I want to spend time with right now. I want to be with you, and just you, and not have my dad and kids running around."

"You just want to get out of having to introduce me to them," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"Oh no, you're not getting out of meeting them, you'll have to say hello," I teased back, poking his chest. "But I'd rather just... we said hello and goodbye and then fucked off to someplace where it'll be just you and me, instead of hanging around with them for days."

"Speaking of your family, where are they? This is your dad's house, right?"

"Yeah, they're all at my brother's, not far from here. Dad decided to stay up there too, he couldn't be arsed to do the half-mile walk at 1am."

"Oh, right. Of course we can go back to London, if that's what you want. I really don't mind where we are," he said sincerely. I grinned widely at him and gave him a grateful kiss, then scrambled out of the chair. "Come on, let's see if there's any flights out of this frozen pit." James trailed behind me into what had once been my old bedroom. These days it was mostly a guest room, but it still bore signs of when it had been my teenage dungeon of angst; some posters on the walls, stickers on the closet doors, CDs I'd left behind. My laptop was charging on my bed, and I sat down on it with legs crossed and opened the computer. I felt the bed give way slightly as James sat down behind me on the bed and wrapped his arms around me. Having left the warmth of the blanket, the oven and James' body, I felt a bit chilly, and he apparently did too. He hugged me, resting his chin on my shoulder and watched as I surfed for flight tickets. Despite being a day where a lot of people returned from the holidays, we had a few options.

"Ooh, can we take this one, at 3pm? That way we'll have to leave here by like... noon, it won't be so late when we get back to London and I'll get out of boring family lunch as well!" I said, clapping with childish excitement.

"All right, fine by me," James said, amused at my eagerness to get out of a family event. I booked the tickets quickly and closed the computer. "That means we're leaving in... ten hours." He looked at his watch.

"And I need to pack first." I turned around to face him. "Aw, poor thing, you're probably exhausted, you've taken a flight and driven here..." I said sympathetically, caressing his cheek. "How about I make some sandwiches, if you're hungry, and then we get some sleep? I'll pack in the morning."

"Sounds perfect," he smiled tiredly, and I wrapped my arms around him and we collapsed backwards on the bed in a shower of kisses and giggles. Tearing myself away from James I got out bed and made some quick sandwiches that we had in the kitchen. I wrote a quick message to my sister, telling her to call me when she got up. I knew I would have some explaining to do, and some excuses to make in the morning. It was already 2.30 by the time we crawled back into bed. James sank down on the bed next to me, stretched out an arm and pulled me as close as he could. I rested my head against his shoulder again and kissed his neck softly.

"I still can't believe you're really here," I whispered against his skin. He answered with his lips, but not in words. The kiss he gave me was so heartfelt and full of love, no one had ever kissed me like that.

"Believe it now?"

"Mm, not sure... If I'm dreaming or hallucinating, I hope I never snap out of it," I mumbled, already feeling drowsy.

"Hm. Well, I can spend days trying to convince you, I don't mind," he offered. We chuckled and shared one last good-night kiss, then drifted off to sleep.