Chapter Text
It was almost like nothing had changed, at the beginning of your odd arrangement with Anya.
That barrier was still there, hindering conversation or real friendship. Anya always pretended to be asleep when you came back from the bathroom and slipped into your bed. She was always on the inner side, her back always facing you as you settled and tucked yourself in.
It was only when you grew still, when your breathing slowed and you teetered on the brink of sleep that you’d feel Anya begin to shift.
Slowly, so slowly she’d roll over, scooting closer until her forehead was pressed between your shoulder blades and her knees drew up to touch the back of your thighs. She would pause, and once she determined you were still asleep, her hands would draw up to the bottom of your sleeping shirt and grip it, holding the hem captive with long, tapered fingers that sometimes ghosted along the bare skin of your back.
It's that small moment, that nightly routine of falling asleep with her body partially tucked into yours when she thought you wouldn’t know, that fully endeared Anya to you.
You found yourself, in turn, treating her like someone precious. Only in small ways, reaching over to re-tuck the blanket around Anya when you disturbed the bed to get in, even though you knew she’d twist the blankets to get close to you the moment she thought you were asleep. You began giving her a soft, “Goodnight,” as you pulled the comforter up to her chin, even though she was ‘asleep.’
And Anya, in turn, began slipping her arms around you each night.
At first, the simple intimacy the two of you shared almost alienated you further during the day, staring across the table at each other through breakfast when the other wasn’t looking, sharply turning away when your eyes met. Courteous, but dry conversations degraded into stumbling through ‘good morning’s’ and ‘hello’s’ when you passed in the halls.
Luckily, that all changed during your first scheduled psych eval since your sleeping arrangement began. You’d been dreading it, more than usual, and had actually begun sweating as you made your way to the med bay.
<><><>
Everything was about as stiff and awkward as you expected until Anya got to the sixth question.
You noticed her hesitate. Anya glanced up from the clipboard, a startling vulnerability brewing under her anxious expression.
Softly, she asked, “And how have you been sleeping?”
Oh.
You fiddled with the cuff of your sleeve for a moment. You knew your answer right away, but nerves were making you pause.
Eventually, you looked back up at Anya, who was not faring well with your silence. Her eyes had gone wide as she desperately scoured your face for something, lips pressed in a firm line. You winced and forced yourself to speak.
“Good. Uh,” You watched Anya’s shoulders sink ever so slightly in relief, “Yeah, very well. Better than I have since we boarded, actually.”
Anya audibly sighed in relief, murmuring, “Oh, good. That’s good,” as she jotted something on the form.
“How about you?” You asked abruptly, a little louder than you’d liked.
Anya blanched as she looked up from the clipboard. Her eyebrows knit upward, dark eyes swinging around the bay before landing on a crudely repaired tear on the shoulder of your jumper.
“Good,” She whispered, finally, and then a bit louder, “Well. I’ve been sleeping better than… too. It’s been… nice.”
You felt something pleasant flutter in your stomach at her admission.
“Yeah, it’s been nice.” You agreed, giving Anya a small, but genuine smile, one she returned without hesitation. She blew out a sigh, slumping slightly in her seat, crossing one leg over the other, suddenly looking a lot more comfortable in your presence, and you imagined your body language demonstrated something similar as you felt your shoulders untense. A light, weary smile decorated Anya’s face as she looked back at your eval.
“Now, ranging from totally disagree to strongly agree, how would you rate the following statement: I have an interest in personal hygiene.”
You frowned playfully, crossing your arms.
“Anya, you tell me.” The casualty in your voice was a little forced, but it was progress.
“Hmmm…” Anya brought her hand under her chin, pretending to mull it over.
“Hey,” You murmured indignantly, but you couldn’t keep the wry smile off your face, “I literally shower before bed every night, Anya.”
“Sorry,” Anya relented, “I say strongly agree, but I need to hear it from you,”
“ Strongly agree, then.”