22...shut up
The hardest part was not knowing if she was alive or dead. It was moments like this where he cursed himself for all the little things he took for granted. When he suggested they have separate bedrooms as if he'd ever get tired of her hogging the sheets, when he was too busy to make dates, or his biggest transgression believing he knew better and left her. Even now he could still smell her hair, he still remembered what she felt like in his arms at night. He could feel her hair against his face as he nuzzled her neck.
It was a nice dream but when he woke up it was over. He was alone, well almost alone there was Tony on the other side of the cell. Before he knew what he was doing he was walking over to that side and sitting beside his friend. How long had it been since he had seen her? He laid down beside Tony, it was much warmed on his side, or perhaps it was just the heat from his body. He hesitated unsure of what he was going to achieve from doing this than slid an arm around Tony, pulled him close and shut his eyes. He just needed to see her again, to feel her.