“I never sleep. Not ever.”

“Just resting your eyes?” She snuggles closer.

“Not even that.” I’d rather stare blind at the night. At least that’s natural. Just an absense of light. The darkness behind eyelids is another matter.

“Well, if you’re not going to sleep, can you listen out for the cat.” She yawned and stretched under the covers. “I think he’s locked in. If you could-” She trailed off into another yawn.

I don’t sleep. I have never slept.

The sounds of her breathing grow regular and deep. Outside the muted buzz and roar of traffic. A distant television muttering. Words always seem more important when you can’t quite catch them.

They say that without sleep you first go mad. And then you die.

I’ve been lying to her all day. All week. For the three weeks since we met. That I don’t sleep might have been the first…