He has been sleeping an awful lot.
Eve is worried, and she hasn't left his side for a long time, because she knows that he needs her.
She is the one who has been there for him before, and she will be here for him now, too.
"Are you pretending to be asleep or are you really not here?" she asks, daring to step inside the cell.
He is still heavily chained, lying down on the concrete floor, his skin and clothes now dusty from the lack of movement and life.
But she can see his chest lifting and falling. He is alive.
On nights when she is riding her fears, she thinks he isn't and has to get close, to feel the breath on her fingers before she sits next to him, just watching.
She sighs when he doesn't even flutter his eyelids.
She doesn't expect him to, but every time she speaks to him, she hopes.
