"No, I can't go to bed. I have to do my face routine."

"Do it quickly, then go to bed. You're so sleepy."

"No, I have to put on my white strips. That takes forty-five minutes."

"Get veneers like me."

"Uh."

His finger poked my cheek slowly, and it was only then that I realized my eyes were closed again. I became vaguely aware of the couch cushion against my other cheek. 

"Well, you can't fall asleep here. That's not healthy."

"I suppose." But I want to stay with you, though. 

Can I be awake again enough to go sit at the piano as I had been doing, and play song after song again? The clacking of his laptop's keys had been too soothing. Lulling me into tiredness. I'd played a medley of Pixar songs, because I'd wanted to watch one of those movies. But, he'd been busy as always. Talking to Cham about work in a messenger app, or maybe booking another act to come play at the bar. There'd be a meeting if that was true, and he'd be even more busy. Let's cuddle on the couch and watch Up. Talk to me about your allergies, because it's spring again. Your nose is stuffy.

Somewhere in the apartment, our cat who sounded like a smoker meowed in a satisfied way.

Tata's cologne smelled like a bouquet of flowers, and there was a lingering of cream from the cupcake he'd eaten earlier. His wrist was near my face.

"Sit on the couch with me." My selfish words. But, really I was being selfish anyway.

"You're not sitting."

"Oh."

"The kitchen table is easier to get my work done on."

My eye opened. He was standing over me with a concerned look. He sniffled, those allergies going no matter the time of the day or night.

"Do you need a tissue?" Getting up, making old man noises. My hand rubbed my face, trying to get the sleep out. It was useless.

"No, not yet." More sniffling. He looked away, towards the kitchen, where surely his work was waiting. How late was it? It felt late.

More old man noises. My face was next to his all of a sudden. A good plan. He had a small smile anyway, because I was so near. My hand went on top of my head as I yawned. Did I have morning breath even though it was night? It slipped down off my hair and poked the bridge of his glasses to press them back where they should be. The small smile became bigger. Very good.

"I'll sit at the table with you," I announced, taking his hand, his fingers going between mine even though he was about to protest. Beginning to move with him.

"Oh, but you're so tired. You should go to bed." 

Smiling, even though he couldn't see since he was following. "I'll put on my white strips and wait."

"But then you can't talk to me," he said, more quiet. 

"That's true."

If we can't talk, then turn your computer towards both of us and let's watch Up. My eyebrows raised at this selfish thought. 

He let go of my hand and sat down softly in his seat as I plopped down into my usual one. His chair scraped on the kitchen tile as he adjusted it, and just like before I found my world dark. Not caring about the fact that my head was now in my arms on the table.

He let out a small, nasally sigh because of his allergies. It was accompanied by his computer keys a few seconds later. Like this instead, I smiled where he couldn't see. Hearing him anyway, being close to him. Sleeping at the table, but keeping him company. I'd gotten my selfish wish. even if not all of it had come true.