By two AM the yawns had become impossible to ignore.
Aurora was doing her best anyway—the specific, determined containment of someone who had decided sleep wasn't happening and was imposing that decision on her body through sheer will. Liam watched her from across the table with the particular attention of someone who had been watching her for months and had learned to read the things she didn't say.
She yawned. Quietly. Pressed her lips together immediately after.
His eyes were drooping too—the heaviness of someone who had tried to sleep and found the door closed. He'd been awake since five AM. His body knew it even if his mind had other plans.
She yawned again.
"You know you can just go back to sleep," he said. "If you didn't get enough."
"I'm fine," she said. She didn't look up from her screen.
He looked at her.
