Gray slept without dreaming that night, in his bed, with Angie curled up beside him. They had not made love - again - but he didn’t mind. It was strange, because he still burned for her, yet when she was near there was always some kind of a crisis and he found himself wanting her scent, her presence, close to him over sweating it out with her on the sheets. Angie was more than that to him. She was…peace, really. He needed that much more than sex at the moment.
He felt her stir beside him in the night, rousing him. His eyes opened in the dark, saw the alarm clock with its softly glowing holographic display. It read three-thirty. In the feeble light given off by the clock display, he could see her dim silhouette, her body outlined in a faint halo picked up from the white sheets. She was so beautiful. He sighed to himself, looking at the sweep of her back; he figured that he would do most anything for her, right now. It was irrational, it was dangerous - but it was how he felt, though he couldn’t say just why. He would have to be careful not to tell her that, for both their sakes.