In the quiet respite of his comfortable bedroom, covered in books and fine linens, Lisle approach his husband and tried to rub the excess lotion into the flesh of his hands and forearms. His robe hung over his body loosely and his glasses were left on the bathroom counter. His freshly washed, soft curls were limp atop his head. He smiled, watching Grant’s brow furrow as he continued to jot down notes on his tablet was always an adorable sight.

“So, your thoughts?” Lisle inquired.

“You look radiant,” Grant mumbled, not removing his eyes from his work.

Lisle turned his eyes down to his robe and bare legs and chuckled. He set his hand against the underside of Grant’s chin and tugged, “Disconnect, please.”

Grant, understanding the request and the keyword, turned his tablet off. He set it down and turned to address Lisle with a smile. His husband looked tired, he could see purple rings around Lisle’s eyes and the weight of the wine and exhaustion hit him hard.

“Sorry, what did you ask? I was trying to add a new file into my system for Sydney before I forgot,” Grant explained.

“You’re fine, I was asking your thoughts on Ellis…” Lisle trailed off.

Grant set his hand on Lisle’s waist and pulled him onto his lap. He held him firmly and kissed his cheek. His thin husband trembled a bit in his arms.

“You should be in bed,” Grant whispered as he rubbed his spine.

“I needed to shower, and I knew you’d be distracted for a while. I was waiting for you, I owe you time after how chaotic I’ve been this week,” Lisle replied sweetly, trying to hide a yawn.

“You owe me a good night’s rest, mon chéri,” Grant urged as he gazed into Lisle’s tired eyes.

“I need one. I’m sorry for being such a mess.”

“See why I keep urging you to take a vacation? You need to rest… I know you’re stressed, I know Ellis is worrying you, but my biggest priority is you, and I’m worried about you. I can see you spiraling. What are your thoughts on Ellis?”

The edge of Lisle’s lip curled up a bit, “Last I checked, my dear doctor, you’re not a therapist.”

“No, I’m your husband, I’ve been with you long enough to know when you’re upset.”

Lisle picked at the skin of his palm a bit and took a deep breath that turned into a harsh cough. Grant continued to rub his spine as he struggled to breath. The extensive scarring from his burns all those years ago covered almost the entirety of his bare legs, he could smell the signature medicated lotion on his skin.

“I don’t want him to get hurt,” Lisle whispered.

“He’s not Killian, and you’re doing a disservice to yourself, to Killian’s memory, and to Ellis’ future by comparing them…” Grant mused as he felt his husband tense, “I know it’s hard, they’re similar, but Ellis is his own man and he has a spark of life in him still. Don’t add more stress to any of our lives over the ghosts of our pasts, Lisle.”

Lisle nodded a bit. He tried to hide a yawn behind his slender fingers and nuzzled his face into his husband’s shoulder. Grant firmly gripped onto his body and held him steady to keep him feeling comfortable and safe as he wrestled with his emotions and his exhaustion.

Biscuit meowed on the edge of the bed, knowing full well it was late and time for sleep. The heater in the corner warbled, gently shifting the near-sheer navy curtains that were peppered with golden stars. The room was sparkling white with navy accents on every piece of furniture and linen. Several large, healthy plants littered the bookshelves and Grant’s desk. It looked lived in compared to many of the other spaces in the hotel. The longevity of their tenure in the facility was showcased in every crevasse and stitch.

Grant could feel Lisle relax, so he fixed his grip, hoisted his husband into his arms and rose from his office chair.

“I’m tired…” Lisle whispered.

“I have no pity for you,” Grant chided.

Lisle chuckled, “Do you have a busy day tomorrow?”

“I need to meet with Sydney and Miss Prescott, the appointments aren’t scheduled until late morning so we can all sleep in. I plan on spending the afternoon finalizing charts and sending Mrs. Olmsted’s files to her daughter. I asked Masoud to keep an eye on Ellis and told Roland to keep the noise down since our new hire needs his sleep and their rooms are too close for him to be as noisy as he usually is. We have time.”

“Good… good… stay in bed with me for a while, then…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Lisle.”

Grant kissed the top of Lisle’s head as he deposited him on the bed. Lisle, arms still wrapped around his husband’s neck, pulled him down with a shy smile. Grant leaned over him, propped up on his hands as he looked down into Lisle’s sleepy, dreamy eyes. He kissed him softly brushed his long curls aside.

“You’re a troublemaker, Carlisle Hawthorne,” Grant said with a playful growl.

“And you, Doctor Fontenot, are incredibly sexy,” Lisle cooed.

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk straight tomorrow,” Grant teased as he clicked the lamp off, smiling widely at his husband’s childish giggles in the darkness. 

Ellis, unable to sleep, wandered quietly down the corridor toward the kitchen. He felt a bit cold, but the thermostat’s controls eluded him and he desperately wanted some tea and to stretch his legs. He felt uncomfortable, a bit nauseous, and worn down, but it was hard to sleep. He could hear Masoud and Roland chatting in the lounge, so he opted to take the path through the garden to avoid uncomfortable conversation.

It was only when he stepped into the foyer that he discovered that he wasn’t as alone as he first believed. Emma Prescott sat in the entryway near the front door, looking out across the chilled expanse just beyond the safety of the spotless windows.

Ellis mustered up the courage and quietly approached, “Miss… Miss Prescott, are you well?”

She turned to look at him with her large eyes, “I don’t know,” she said, her voice was soft and held a southern American accent. Not quite the same as Grant Fontenot’s, a bit of a drawl hung on her words.

“Can I… get you anything?”

“Isn’t it a bit late for you to be working?”

“We aren’t ever truly off duty,” Ellis replied, conjuring up Lisle’s words.

“No, I’d like to be alone, please.”

Ellis felt his cheeks grow a bit heated, “Apologies. Have a good night, Miss Prescott.”

And with that, he hurried off back down the hall to try and hide the embarrassment in his expression, leaving the mysterious Emma Prescott sitting alone in the foyer, draped in the ever-present sunlight of the early January am hours.