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Awake and Sleeping

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Jessamy had watched over Felix as he slept scores of times — when he was small and had nightmares, was ill or convalescent — always with a sense of affection. But all the brotherly love and care in the world had not prepared him for what he felt watching Aubrey sleep, the lines of pain smoothed from brow and cheek, a smile lurking in the faint upturn of his lips, the relaxed weight of his legs where they tangled with Jessamy's own. Seeing Aubrey asleep in his arms tightened his throat, squeezed his chest, filled his heart with love anything but brotherly.