Her promise feels like it's spoken in another language, like it's something he can't quite translate, because he's never heard anything like it. The idea that he might not be alone when this day ends, that he might wake up to a familiar face and a familiar room? Foreign.

"You don't have to stay, you know," he says, words already turning into a sleepy slur. "If you're not tired."

He doesn't know what time it is, but when he closes his eyes all he can see is the sun in the car window, feel the hum of the road, the feeling of Allison's fingers in his hair. He dares to let himself think: he's home. There's always been an ease, a trust, between them that has managed to stay in tact somehow between her leaving and his staying.

"I won't sleep long," he says, eyes still closed, the words a mumble against her shoulders. "I wanna hear about everything. I've missed you."