Callen lay still, the room quiet except for the muted tick of the clock on the wall. His eyelids fluttered open now and again, drifting between the pull of sleep and the dull ache that seemed to live in every muscle. The air smelled faintly of linen and something clean—Yu's presence lingered even though he'd left.
As Callen shifted slightly, a groan slipped out before he could hold it back. He stared at the ceiling, trying to untangle the haze of thoughts. He remembered Yu's shy blush, the warmth of Yu's palm against his lips, and the way Yu had pulled away. It hadn't been rejection, not exactly. There was a softness there, something that gave him a fragile thread of hope.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth despite the pounding in his head.
'Sigh, If only things were simpler.'
