How did that keep happening? How many times could Anye know she was not going to get an honest answer, and still be disappointed when she was right? She felt something in her chest deflate a little more, and she was a fraction more emptier than she had been a minute ago. Soon I'll have nothing left, she thought, but Anye found she didn't fear that outcome. Maybe that would make everything easier. Being empty sounded easy, and easy would be nice. Being empty might be a relief. All she felt now was heavy.
Anye sighed and pulled back the blankets and climbed under them, then scooted over to the opposite side of the bed. "Come on," she said, dropping back against one of her pillows. "I'm one of the only straight women in the world you can trust not to molest you. Do you want me to find you pajamas? I've probably got stuff somewhere that would fit you." Somehow the idea of sharing a bed with Nick wasn't strange or awkward at all to her. It was probably one of those unhealthy, vaguely stalker-like aspects of her, but she at least knew she'd be able to keep tabs on him that way. Besides, she'd done weirder things on missions. When trying to wrangle a yeti away from a Siberian village once her entire group had huddled for warmth in their tent at night. You learned to worry less about your personal space when your life was on the line, and when it came to Nick? She always felt like the stakes were high.