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Was it three-twenty, or four-twenty?

Reyna’s eyes shot open at the sudden question her subconscious brought to the forefront of her sleep. Most people could recount their mistakes and leave it until morning to be sorted. But Reyna Valeria wasn’t most people. Any mistake on her part would cost the lives of others and drain her accounts on unnecessary purchases. She had to account for every Shard, evey coin, to ensure that everything ran smoothly. Even at the cost of her own well-being.

She felt her pulse begin its slow ascent towards panic and knew that if she lingered here longer, trying to remember what number she’d placed on the order, it would only get worse. Get up, check, go back to bed. Or stay up and fix it. It was as simple as that.

Not so simple when she spied a sleeping face across from her. Well, half of one, anyway. She could’ve sworn she’d gone to bed alone, that she hadn’t made a call to the large clone asking for company tonight. That left her completely clueless as to why he was even here.

Well, almost clueless. But that wasn’t a thought she continued to entertain.

She sulked at the new tears that jagged helmet of his was putting into her new pillows. Sulked at the fact that he had taken most of her covers too. Talk about rude . She had a right mind to plant her foot on his stomach and shove him out, reclaim what was hers.

Instead, she inched forward until her knees bumped into his thighs.

You should be asleep, Reyna. Not entertaining pointless fairytales and wishes.

Instead, her gaze roamed over metal and scars and teeth and claws, taking him all in for what he was. A trusted member of her team. A friend. A good romp when she needed to vent. And that’s where she yanked back the reins on her thoughts, bringing them to a halt.

Why does he have to f**king snore like that?

Instead, she wedged a foot between his knees for warmth and dragged the covers higher, hunkering down beneath them until she was covered up to her chin; he, up to his shoulder. No one had ever made her feel small before, and not just in terms of size. He’d been able to match her ruthlessness, carelessness, and ability to piss off the right people without skipping a beat.

Then why is it so hard to…

Instead, she tucked herself beneath his arm, draping it over her waist, and waited for a spell. Listening to his breathing, hearing that annoying whistling sound as his exhale got caught inside the helmet, feeling his chest swell and ebb against hers. For all his rough edges, there was something soft that he mostly kept hidden, for fear of embarrassment or being teased. Being created for only one purpose, it was probably difficult to break that “programming.” But he’d done it. All on his own and without help from anyone else. Made himself his own man by the time he stumbled into her radar.

… wasn’t I supposed to be getting up?

Instead, she jabbed a quick punch to his throat, right on the Adam’s apple, to wake him up. And wake him up it did, coughing and spluttering and gasping for air.

“Wh-what the hell?” Foxtrot rubbed at his aching trachea, confused as to the sudden violence.

“You were snoring,” Reyna mumbled, pretending to be half-asleep. Half of her face was buried into the pillow to hide the majority of her smirk.

A growl rumbled through him until he saw his arm draped perfectly in the curve of her waist. A growl that faded to an annoyed grunt. She should have just pushed him out of bed. He was used to that.

Instead, he raked his hand up her back and into her hair, clawed fingers tracing circles against her scalp.

You always were a sucker.