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I was sitting in the garden drawing the new plant of roses that my mother had brought home some days before when I suddenly heard a crashing sound come from the house.

I stood up quickly and pulled my earphones out of my ears by the wire, leaving everything but my phone outside and hesitantly walking inside the house to try to discover where the sound was coming from. I slowly closed the door and walked into the kitchen slowly and carefully, looking around the corner, instantly frowning when I realised what had caused the loud sound.

Harry was in my house, after having let himself in as I'd asked him to, and he'd just crashed his back against the book shelf on the side wall, his eyes wide as he stared into nothing, a multitude of books on the floor.

"Harry" I said as I rushed towards him, automatically putting my hand on his forearm to check if he was okay and furrowing my eyebrows when he didn't even look at me, his breath rushed through his teeth. "Harry?" I called his name trying to get his attention, but he completely ignored me. It was as if he couldn't even hear me, his pupils dilated and his eyes widened as he stared a point on the opposite wall that something told me he couldn't see. "Harry" I called him again, trying to make my voice firmer despite the nervousness I was feeling, grazing his cheek for a quick second in an attempt to get him out of whatever thoughts were stealing him from reality.

He gasped as soon as my finger touched his skin, pressing his back harder against the wall in an attempt to get away from the touch. He blinked fast, his gaze finally falling on me, a somewhat confused look in his eyes.

"What happened?" I asked him carefully, my fingers still wrapped around his forearm tightly, as if I was subconsciously fearing that he would've fallen to the ground at any second.

He shook his head and detached his back from the wall, a frown finding its way on his face. "Nothing" he just replied, the tone of his voice low, his gaze not being able to meet mine.

I pursed my lips, perfectly knowing that it wasn't nothing, but also knowing that I couldn't push him to tell me if he didn't want to. "Are you sure?" I asked again, just to make sure that he truly didn't want to tell me and that he wasn't simply being difficult instead.

"I'm fine" he replied again a bit quicker than I'd expected, and even though it was clear to the both of us that it was an open lie, I decided not to call him out on it.

"Alright" I said, giving a quick glance around before kneeling down to pick up the books that had fallen on the ground and putting back in their original space as Harry stared into nothing, a somewhat shocked look held in his eyes for reasons that I was yet to know. Once I was done with my task I stood up again, looking out of the window as I stayed there in silence for a couple of seconds. "We, uh, we should go upstairs, my mum will come home soon to get ready to go out and I don't want her bothering us" I said after some seconds, and Harry turned his head to look at me quickly, as if he'd remembered just in that moment that I was in the room as well.

He gave me a little nod, and I turned around, even though I didn't really feel like letting him out of my sight in that moment, and started walking upstairs, mentally counting each step I took as I tried to understand what had just happened. It was clear that he'd panicked about something, but I had no idea of what it was, and especially of why it'd happened in that moment, inside of my house, just like that. I was pretty sure that it wasn't due to whatever had happened with Niall's family after he'd brought me back home, because he wouldn't have felt like he couldn't - or didn't want to - share it with me if that was it.

I entered my bedroom and sat on the couch, knowing that Harry would've taken his usual spot at the bottom of my bed. I turned my head to glance at the white-bluish light that was coming in through the window. It felt like yesterday when he'd stood in front of that same window wearing only his boxers as I'd taken the picture that had ended up being one of the best drawings I'd ever done.

I heard the soft creak of the mattress as Harry sat on the bed, and glanced at him, quietly taking off my shoes in a quick motion and putting my feet up on the white couch, carefully looking at him as he stared at the floor. He seemed somewhat confused, somewhat shocked, and lost in his thoughts.

I couldn't say a word. I couldn't exactly tell why, but I'd never felt the air of a room so tense, with him not seeming to be tense at all. We both knew that something had happened back downstairs, but he couldn't bring himself to talk to me, and I couldn't bring myself to ask about it. I wished I could've just sat down next to him and tried to comfort him in the best way I could, but I knew that things between us had changed, and I was afraid I'd lost my right to do so.

He cleared his throat, seeming to come back to the present all of sudden. He hesitantly looked up, meeting my gaze, that was still on him, for a quick second before looking at an unspecified spot on the wall. "You mentioned some texts yesterday" he asked quietly, but suddenly.

My eyes widened at his words. I hadn't expected him to have heard that part of the conversation. On one side, I was glad he had, because I didn't think I would've ever managed to bring them up on my own, but on the other, I feared that he would've considered the whole situation stupid. That's how I felt for even taking them into consideration, at least. "Yeah... Niall sent me some texts anonymously" I explained quickly, and he nodded.

"Can I see them?" He asked, and my heart almost dropped out of my chest.

"It's just... stupid" I replied quickly, for some reason not wanting him to see them. I knew that his father was a sensitive topic - regardless of what had truly happened, and I feared he wouldn't have reacted that well to the last text for that specific reason.

Despite what I'd hoped though, he didn't seem to have any intention of dropping the topic. "Sierra, please" he said gently, and in the moment he did it I knew I wouldn't have been able to tell him no.

I sighed, slowly taking my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and unlocking it quietly, carefully side-glancing at Harry as I did so, not being able to push away the sudden feeling that told me it wasn't such a great idea to show him the messages, especially so soon after he'd panicked about something. I went into the messages and clicked on the chat with the anonymous number, taking a deep breath and leaning forward to hand Harry the phone.

He took it, and for some seconds there was just silence. I went back to my previous position, quietly glancing at him, hoping that he would say something, but he didn't. Some more seconds went by, and I started to get nervous when I realised he'd already stopped scrolling, and was staring at the last text.

I furrowed my eyebrows when he let in a trembling breath, his eyes slightly widened, my phone slipping out of his fingers and falling on the ground.

Completely ignoring it because I knew that no damage had been done considering the fall had been rather short, I left the couch and crouched in front of Harry, worry evident in my eyes. "Are you okay?" I asked gently, putting my hand on his forearm to get his attention.

He harshly pushed my hand away in the second I touched him, scooting away from me until his back hit the wall violently. "Don't touch me" he hissed under his breath as he stared right ahead, and I stopped in my tracks, watching him slowly panicking more and more while I just sat there, wondering what I should've done.

Then there were the tears. They welled up in his eyes making his green irises translucent before starting to fall down his cheeks as his breathing fastened up, his chest heaving as if he couldn't get enough air in his lungs. I'd never seen Harry cry before. Hell, I wasn't even sure if Harry had cried before, it was panicky and stressed and altogether it looked like a switch had been flicked all of sudden, making him crumble down to the floor.

I carefully sat down in the corner of the mattress, hesitantly reaching for his hand and putting my hand on top of his, I knew I wouldn't have dared to touch him anywhere else, considering how he'd reacted the first time. "Harry" I said, I couldn't exactly tell why I'd said it. Maybe to let him know he wasn't alone, or maybe to fill the silence of the room with other than his heart-wrenching sobs.

He turned his head to the opposite side I was sitting on slightly, covering his face with his free hand in an attempt to shield himself from me, but he gripped my hand. It was nervous and harsh and it slightly hurt, but I didn't really care.

I slid closer to him, and before I could even realise he was in my arms, and I had to hold him tightly not to let him fall off the bed when he hunched forward as each sob was ripped out of his chest so violently that I feared he would've suffocated. I held him, stunned by his reaction, but determined not to let him go as he wetted my shirt, his chest rising and falling quickly against mine.

All of sudden he pushed himself out of my arms, almost falling to the ground as he got off the bed and almost running out of my bedroom. I stood up as well and rushed behind him, frowning when I saw him enter the bathroom quickly, leaving the door open as he threw himself on the ground in front of the toilet.

Quickly realising what was happening, I followed him inside and fell to the ground next to him, pulling his hair back as he emptied his stomach into the bowl.

When he was done he sat there, his knees against the cold tiles of my bathroom floor, his hands gripping the toilet bowl so harshly that his knuckles had become white, as hurried and quick breaths left his parted lips hissing their way out of his throat. The muscles of his back contracted violently as he hunched forward again, battling a second retch, and I jumped back up on my knees to pull his hair back, but I quickly sat back when I realised he had nothing left to puke.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" he whispered so softly that I almost couldn't hear him, leaning his forehead on his knuckles, his chest heaving with each hitched breath that left his mouth.

"It's okay" I replied, letting my hand run up and down his back, hoping to soothe his distress in some way. I wished I could've said something more useful than that, but I'd never been in a similar situation and, especially considering it was Harry, I had no idea of what I could've told him that would've made him feel any better. If there was anything to say, at all.

We stayed there in silence for a couple of minutes, my gaze focused to the way his hand was gripping the bowl almost anxiously, his drifted to the contents of it. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, his arms trembling slightly as he hesitantly pushed himself to sit up, his eyes still focused on the floor.

He stood up slowly, almost losing his balance as he walked to the sink in careful steps. He stopped in front of it, his hands on the cold ceramic, looking at his reddened eyes without saying a word, a frown on his face.

"It's okay to cry" I told him quietly as I walked behind him, taking the cup I always left there and filling it with water before handing it to him.

Harry took it, his fingers carefully wrapping around it, and I let it go a second too late, afraid that it would've just slipped out of his hand. He looked inside it for some seconds before taking a sip of the water and rinsing his mouth, hunching over the sink as he spit it out. I put my hand on his back when he stayed in that position, his hair shielding his eyes from me as he looked down, the muscles of his back tense against the palm of my hand. I gently squeezed his shoulder, wanting to let him know I was there, but also not wanting to bother him.

"He didn't know how to be a dad" he murmured all of sudden, his voice cracking, staying still in that position, and I looked at him, even though I knew he couldn't see that my attention was focused on him. "He'd never... It had always been my mother and I before. He was more concerned with his own work to think of building a relationship with me" he continued, his tone sounding a bit firmer the more he spoke. He cleared his throat, straightening his back, but not looking up. "When my mum died everything fell apart."

I stepped closer to him, hesitantly putting my hand over his, that was still on the sink. He turned his to take mine, his shoulders slouching forward, and I leant my forehead against his arm not saying a word, fearing that he would've thought he couldn't talk to me about it if I'd interrupted him.

"He..." he said, his voice drifting away when he seemed to momentarily lose himself in his thoughts. "He had issues balancing... everything, but he still tried his best. Until he couldn't anymore." His words were followed by a deep silence, that lasted for some seconds. "We lived alone, I'd just come home from school" he continued hesitantly after a while, his voice fainter. "I was the one that found him."

I looked up at him in the second he spoke those last words, he was staring at the white polish of the sink, a shocked look in his eyes. Without thinking twice, I pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around him tightly, hoping to let him know that I was there for him if he needed me to be.

He let himself be hugged for some seconds, that he spent looking down and trying to get a hold of the way he was feeling, and then he gently pulled away, clearing his throat. "I can't believe he sent you something like that" he muttered in an attempt to change topic, exiting the bathroom quickly.

I put the cup in the sink and turned around, flushing the toilet before following him out of the room. When I entered my bedroom, I found him sitting on my bed, his elbows on his knees, his head held in his hands. I slowly sat down next to him, the mattress creaking as I did so, but he didn't look up at me.

We sat there in silence for a couple of seconds, and then he slipped off his shoes, lying down on my bed, staring at the ceiling over his head. I hesitantly lay down next to him, turning my head to glance at him.

"I'm sorry for panicking" he whispered after a while, his gaze still focused on the white of my ceiling as he spoke.

"You have nothing to be sorry for" I told him gently, letting my hand graze against his.

He retracted his hand quickly as soon as I touched it, bringing it to his chest with a frown on his features.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, furrowing my eyebrows, not having expected him to react like that, propping myself up on my elbows.

He slightly shook his head, trying to play it off as if it wasn't a big deal, sniffling a bit before passing his other thumb under his eyes, getting rid of the last wetness. "I went to the gym yesterday night and I forgot to put on my boxing gloves" he said quietly, his voice so low that it cracked halfway through the sentence.

"Does it hurt?" I asked him, keeping the tone of voice low as well, not wanting to disrupt the quietness of the room, and he gave me a little nod. "Since yesterday?" I asked for confirmation, furrowing my eyebrows. If he'd retracted his hand like that it meant it was hurting him quite a lot, so why hadn't he tried to bandage it in some way? Even more, what if it was broken, and would've needed to be taken care of more carefully? It was weird to think that someone could be that careless about something like that, but, considering everything that had happened in the past few hours: it kind of made sense. "Can I see?" I asked him gently, but he shook his head.

"I'm okay" he said fast, sitting up on the mattress as he started to get defensive, putting his hand on his thigh.

I sighed at his stubbornness, suddenly remembering the time in which we'd had a similar conversation after he'd been punched by Niall. "Harry, please" I said, trying to convince him. I had to know if it was something bad, because I was pretty sure that he wouldn't have acknowledged it on his own.

He seemed to be about to reply, but then the defensiveness in his eyes dropped, and he hesitantly put his hurt hand in the little space between us.

I took it carefully and I slowly straightened his fingers by putting my other hand under it, making him wince slightly. "Sorry" I told him quietly, frowning when I noticed that the two fingers in the middle were a bit swollen towards the knuckles, a bruise on the skin that was starting to get darker. "Maybe you should get it checked out" I said, refraining from touching them to try to figure out if there was anything broken in fear of hurting him.

"I'm fine" he replied quickly, retracting his hand, and I let it go, not wanting to accidentally cause him pain.

"Hang on" I said, before standing up and going into the bathroom, knowing that it would've been way easier than trying to get him to come with me. I opened a cupboard and retrieved something to bandage his hand with before going back to my bedroom and putting it on the bed as I sat down on the mattress.

Harry gave it a little wary look but didn't say anything, so I took his left hand and carefully bandaged it just enough to hold his hurt fingers in place a bit more, trying to be as gentle as possible as I tightened it.

"Is it too tight?" I asked him, glancing up at him, discovering that he was already looking at me.

He shook his head slightly. "No, it's fine" he said quietly in reply, and I looked down again, securing the bandage and letting his hand go.

"You should get it checked out if it doesn't get better in a couple of days" I told him even though I was pretty sure he wouldn't have done that, and he gave me a little nod, lying down on the bed again.

I crossed my legs on the mattress, looking out of the window, wondering what would've happened next. I knew that we still had to talk about pretty much everything, but that didn't feel like the right moment to do it at all.

I turned around all of sudden when I noticed that Harry had been quiet for a while, and I widened my eyes when I realised that he'd fallen asleep, the stress of everything that had happened finally getting to him and exhausting him. I slowly got off the bed, not wanting to move the mattress too much, and I took the burgundy blanket from my white couch, quietly unfolding it before covering him with it.

• • •

My mother came by the house, and quickly left for her dinner after realising that Harry was asleep on my bed, for some reason deciding not to question it in that moment.

When Harry woke up it was dark outside, and I was sitting at the desk in my bedroom, trying to finish the drawing for the competition as fast as possible while I waited for him to come around.

He turned around on the bed before sitting up and making the mattress squeak, getting my attention. I glanced at him as he rubbed his eyes before turning to look at my alarm clock. He widened his eyes a bit when he saw what time it was and cleared his throat before hesitantly standing up and walking towards me, furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head to the side when he noticed what I was drawing.

"Liam?" He asked confused, his voice a bit faint, and I gave him a little nod, suddenly feeling a bit nervous, even though I was quite sure I had no reason to be.

"I spilled latte on the other one" I told him, hoping that he would understand that my choice had been more practical than anything else.

He closed the distance between himself and the table, leaning against it as he looked at the drawing better. "I thought you made copies?" He asked, clearing his throat again to make his voice clearer after the sleep.

"I forgot to make a copy of that one" I replied with a sigh, thinking of how much easier everything would've been if I'd done that, and he gave me a little nod.

"It's good" he simply commented looking down at it, and that was it.

I sketched the last part under his attentive stare, making sure that the proportions were right before finally putting my pencil down and putting the drawing in a folder to make sure it wouldn't have got ruined. "Should we have dinner?" I asked him hesitantly, knowing that it was past nine in the evening, even though I wasn't really hungry.

"I don't think I'm that hungry" he replied truthfully, and I gave him a little nod, pursing my lips as I quickly decided what to do.

"Should we order a pizza or something? I'm not that good at cooking" I asked him, knowing that it would've been better to eat at least a little bit, for the both of us, and he nodded.

I took my phone and I ordered the plainest pizza they had as we walked downstairs, proceeding with silently setting the table to waste some time as we waited for it to come.

When it finally did I almost ran to open the door, paying quickly and bringing it inside, opening it on the table.

The dinner wasn't awkward, but it certainly was silent, the both of us knowing that we definitely had some things to talk about, but not knowing how to address the topic. I felt my nervousness rise by the second, the fact that I couldn't tell what was about to happen unsettling me to no end.

The silence persisted even after we finished eating, and when I was putting away the leftovers, and when I was cleaning the dishes. It lasted as we walked up the stairs again and it lasted as we sat down on my bed again, one in front of the other, not quite ready to have that conversation, but knowing that we had to.

"The texts" Harry said all of sudden, and I looked up at him quickly, nodding a bit more eagerly than I should've. He looked down, furrowing his eyebrows, playing with the white duvet over my bed as he seemed to be thinking of something. "Why didn't you tell me about them?"

I pursed my lips, looking down as well for a quick second. I stayed in silence for a couple of seconds, wondering what I should've replied, but then I decided to go with the simple truth, hoping that he wouldn't have got mad at me for it. "I thought it was just someone I knew playing some kind of prank on me, I didn't think it was a big deal at first" I said, and he gave me a little nod, glancing up as he listened to my reply. "I should've told you, but you already had other things to think about and I was quite sure that it was nothing important, I didn't want you to worry for no reason."

"And... the last text?" He asked hesitantly, making my eyes widen as I remembered that one.

"I did take it... into consideration for a while, I'm truly sorry about that" I told him truthfully, observing him carefully to try to determine what his reaction would've been, but he didn't say anything, waiting for me to continue. "I wanted to tell you about it but I had no idea how to."

He stared at the floor, furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lower lip. "Okay" he said after a while, surprising me. "Is that why you ran away from me?"

I closed my eyes for some seconds at the remembrance of that day. "I'm really sorry about that" I said honestly, regretting my actions of that day. "I just... I was confused about that text and I had no idea how to tell you about it, and then you kept trying to talk to me and I just panicked."

He looked at the wall behind me, taking in what I'd said, for a couple of seconds before talking. "I don't think I can talk about... us, right now. I'm not in the right mindset to do so" he revealed and I nodded, instantly deciding that it would've been better to do it in another moment.

"We can do it tomorrow" I suggested, and he gave me a little nod in reply, not saying anything. "How... how are you feeling?" I asked him quietly after some seconds went by, looking at him attentively. A lot of things had happened in a short amount of time, and I wondered what his take was on it all.

He let out a sigh at my words. "Upset mostly, for now. I will be certainly angry about the texts tomorrow, though" he replied, being way more honest than I'd expected him to be.

"That would be understandable" I told him. It wouldn't have surprised me if he'd got mad at Niall for sending them and at me for believing them. I was pretty sure I would've been quite pissed as well if I'd been in his place.

He looked at the time again on the alarm clock on the nightstand next to me, sighing when he saw it was already way past eleven. "I should go" he commented, playing a bit with the bandage on his left hand as he spoke, before standing up and looking for his shoes, that he'd left at the bottom of my bed earlier that day.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I thought of him going back to his house, where he would've had to be in the presence of Niall's parents, that had treated him awfully for the past weeks, and of Niall himself, that had betrayed his trust in more ways than one. It just didn't feel right. I didn't want him to have to be in their presence if he didn't want to, and it was pretty clear that he didn't, at all. "You can spend the night here, if you want" I told him before I could even realise what I was saying, and I widened my eyes when I did, immediately thinking of how weird my proposition had been, considering the situation we were in.

For some reason though, Harry didn't seem to think it was awkward, because he sat back down quickly, proving how little eager he actually was to go back to his house. "Thank you" he said, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he looked at me.

I just nodded, feeling my cheeks get a bit warmer at the idea of having him sleep in my bed again. "You're welcome" I replied, not bothering to think of what my mother would've said about it.

• • •

My eyes shot open when I felt the mattress move violently under my body. I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced at the time on the alarm clock on my nightstand, it was only two in the morning. I frowned when I realised I didn't have the warmth of Harry's back against mine anymore, and I slowly turned around, seeing that Harry had just sat up on the bed. "Harry?" I called him gently, blinking quickly to get rid of the tiredness in my eyes.

He turned his head and glanced at me when he realised that I was looking at him, and he hesitantly lay down again, putting his head on the pillow right next to me and staring at the ceiling for a couple of seconds before turning his back to me.

"Harry" I said, trying to get his attention, grazing his back with my hand before scooting closer to him and propping myself up on my elbow, seeing that his eyes were still open, and he was staring at the wall in front of him. "What do you need me to do?" I asked him gently, carefully putting my hand on his arm as I spoke, worried that he would've just pushed me away like he'd done earlier that day.

I'd never seen him that upset after having a nightmare before, but I couldn't tell if it was because it'd been worse than usual, or because he wasn't able to fake it in that moment.

"Just stay here, please" he murmured lowly, and I nodded, even though I knew he couldn't see me.

I didn't know how he would've felt about me hugging him, considering everything that had happened, so I lay down against his back, covering the both of us better with the blanket, that had fallen around our hips when we'd moved. "Of course" I whispered in reply, closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep again.

My sleep didn't last long though, because not to long after I was woken up again by Harry jolting against me all of sudden.

"Harry" I stated, that time with a little more determination, turning my head to see that barely forty-five minutes had gone by.

He cleared his throat, but he didn't turn around to look at me when I addressed him. "Did I wake you up again?" He asked lowly, and I was pretty sure that, if I could've seen his face, I would've seen him frowning. "I'm sorry" he added gently, not waiting for me to reply.

"No, it's alright" I said quickly, not wanting him to feel like he was a burden - which he wasn't. I stared at his back, wondering what we should've done. It was clear that sleep wasn't agreeing with him that night despite how tired he was, but I knew that if we'd woken up and spent the night up we would've surely woken my mother up as well, which wasn't a good thing considering that she had to go to work the next day. "You're too stressed, Harry" I told him gently, knowing that that was probably the reason why he didn't seem to be able to fall asleep without harshly waking up not too long after on that night. It was clear that what had happened the day before, and that same day as well, had been a bit too much for him to handle.

He didn't say anything, but I knew he wasn't asleep, it was clear in the way he was breathing, that was a bit shallower than usual.

"Come here, turn around" I said quietly as a sudden idea struck me, hoping that it wouldn't have been a bad idea. I didn't really know how to help him in that moment though, so I decided to give it a go anyway.

He did as I told him to and put his head in the crook of my neck, warm air hitting my skin as he slowly breathed out.

"Is it a bit better like this?" I asked him quietly as I brushed my fingers through his curls, hoping that it would've helped him to relax a bit and - hopefully - get some sleep as well.

He let out a low hum at my question, weighing down against my body a bit more as he shifted into a more comfortable position, his leg sliding between mine. "I can't breathe" he murmured all of sudden, and I looked down at him quickly, moving to sit up, but he stopped my actions by putting his free arm on my waist. "I didn't mean literally" he specified. "I feel like I'm slowly suffocating."

My hand stopped for a couple of seconds. "It'll be alright" I replied, going back to brushing his hair slowly, wishing that I'd known something more useful to tell him.

"It doesn't feel like it" he said lowly against my neck, his words not surprising me in the slightest.

I sighed, opening my eyes to look at the almost invisible ceiling above us. "I know" I whispered faintly, and he hummed in reply.

For some seconds we lay there, not a word being spoken, in the company of one another for the first time in what felt like ages, but that was just a few days in reality.

"Niall told his parents today" he whispered to me after a while, a little sigh leaving his lips.

I put my hand on the mattress behind him before hesitantly deciding to rest it on his waist. "What did they say?" I asked him gently, hoping that nothing bad had happened following the revelation.

He slightly shrugged at my question. "Maura wanted to talk to me" he murmured lowly, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"What did she say?" I whispered back, starting to feel nervous for some reason. I'd got the impression that she was the only person that truly cared about him in Niall's family, but considering everything that had happened, I didn't know what to think anymore.

"I don't know, I left" he mumbled quietly, a little sigh leaving his lips as he stretched his body against me slightly, lying down against me more comfortably. "I didn't feel like hearing it."

"That's understandable" I said, going back to gently playing with his hair. I stared at the ceiling for a while as I let the newfound calm settle in my chest, furrowing my eyebrows when, after a while, I realised that he hadn't replied. "Harry?" I called his name faintly, but I was only met by silence. Realising that he'd fallen asleep, I quickly shut up, not wanting to wake him up, and I closed my eyes.

I didn't wake up again that night, and if he did, he was careful not to wake me up as well.

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