Then…

Once again, silence fell between the two women. Helena was the first to break it, stepping closer to Bette until they were nearly touching. Her next question was a big one:

“Do you want to sleep with me? Just to sleep?”

Bette’s smile grew and she laughed, shaking her head. Helena stepped back, worried, but Bette reassured her, “No, I wasn’t laughing at your request! I was just laughing because, as odd as it sounds, that is the best offer I’ve had all week.”

“All right then.” Helena breathed in, a sigh of relief and exhaustion all at once. “Sleep.” She practically sang the word.

Bette took her by the hand and they walked to Bette’s bedroom. Just as they reached the doorway, something occurred to Helena.

“Urm, Bette, do you think I could borrow something to sleep in?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Bette was flustered, remembering that Helena had nothing to wear but the clothes she had come in with and the robe she had on.

Now…

Bette’s eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes for the umpteenth time that night. She glanced over at the bedside clock and saw that it was 3am. Beside her, Helena was close enough that Bette could feel heat radiating off of her skin. But something was off about Helena’s breathing.

“Are you sleeping?” Bette whispered though she already knew the answer to her question.

Helena laid on her right side, her knees curled up slightly. Bette was on her back, stretched out. Helena’s eyes were open, gazing at Bette’s face bathed in dim streetlights which shone outside of the house. Bette had given her a white tank top and a pair of shorts.  Both women had changed quickly, their backs to one another before coming face to face again and climbing into bed. Something had nagged at Helena’s memory when she faced Bette, and now she could not sleep.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Helena tentatively put out her hand and touched Bette’s bare shoulder. “Go back to sleep; I’ll try as well.”

Bette moved her face once again to the side, meeting Helena’s eyes.

“Why can’t you sleep?”

Helena was silent, thinking something over.  Finally, she took a deep, shaky breath and moved closer to Bette. Her hand she drew across Bette’s stomach; her lips she allowed to press lightly to Bette’s arm. She knew that she was being bold, but she had already been bold in asking to sleep in Bette’s bed—and Bette was a grown woman who could draw her own lines if she needed to.