Lord Hendrix's POV
In my usual habit of rolling endlessly in my sleep, I sprawl my limbs like an octopus on the bed, in search of nothing specifically.
Even when Natalie constantly complains about it or make a jest of it, I don't stop doing it, either because I love pissing her off when we're alone, or it's the bitter truth; I can't sleep like normal people with normal lives.
Half asleep, I adjust again, and spread my tentacles ever farther, with the sole motive of pissing her off, just to make up for all those times she made me mad and the recent times she's made life tough by my side.
Oddly, it's empty... There's no hard mass that assures me Natalie's close by. As expected, I was supposed to touch her or as little as have a feel of her presence when I do my sleep attack as she would call it.
