She woke with the flicker of flame in her peripheral vision. The dry steam of the night held itself watchful between them, tied up in the drawn curtains and trickling out under the small space between carpet and door. She felt the weight of her choices laying on her back, and tried to keep her breathing even, though he knew she was awake.

A lazy curl of smoke pressed toward a ceiling painted patchy to hide water stains that always found their way through.

They always find their way through, no matter how much we try to cover it up.