Charles pulled the blanket around him as he watched Edwin search for the other one. He felt his chest so full and heavy with a heartbeat, that he could almost burst out crying.

"You too, mate," he sighed and sat down to find his place by the couch, lying on the floor. Charles was sure he was not going to sleep, however. He wanted to look out for Edwin but he still also wanted to feel his alive body. Though the thing with alive bodies were that they needed sleep. So the moment his head hit the cushion, Charles was out. And he dreamed.

He dreamed of food, of eating. He tasted it too. Charles dreamed of running and feeling his lungs burn. He dreamed of holding and kissing Edwin, and then he dreamed of his father and his rage... It was the one that shook him awake, filling his stomach with nostalgia of something he didn't really miss.