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Gust tossed and turned under the covers. He turned to lay on his back, left arm draped across his forehead as his right arm stretched outwards, he sighed at the empty space next to him. Elizabeth said she would be out late - she had a large order to fill and needed to go into the ruins to collect more ore. He peeked at the clock on his bedside table - almost two in the morning. He groaned and rubbed his eyes from exhaustion. He was used to his wife's antics by now - years of marriage had him accustomed to her late night schedule. But he still was never able to sleep properly until she was safely in bed with him.
Worry clouded his thoughts - what if she'd hurt herself? There'd be no one down there to help her, or even get help. What if he woke up in the morning and she still wasn't there? Or he awoke to a note from Dr Xu that she was in the infirmary with serious wounds. There had been more than one occasion where he'd considered bending the ear of Petra and asking if there was any technology that could be created to raise some kind of alarm - just in case. He knew, of course, the damage that would do to Elizabeth's pride so the thought never left his head (except for the occasional doodle in his spare time).
He turned onto his left so he could watch the door of their bedroom - firmly shut to keep in the warmth of the fire that burned merrily in the fireplace at the end of the bed. His tiredness weighing in, he drifted into an uneasy snooze.
Gust was unsure of how long he'd been dozing when the creak of a hinge woke him up. In the light of the fire he watched the small silhouette of his wife creep into the bedroom. He rolled his eyes at her superfluous tiptoeing. He could hear her shivering from where he lay in bed across the room. She stopped at the fire, crouching down to warm herself in it's welcoming heat. Even after all these years of living in Portia, she'd never become accustomed to the cold weather; she revelled in the hot summers and loved the cooler autumn's, but anything close to winter and she cursed the weather through chattering teeth.
It reminded him of their trip to Barnarock a few years ago when they'd gone in the winter to visit her aunt and cousins.
"It's better to go in the winter when it's cooler. You'll likely combust if we went any other time." She'd said to him. Gust had scoffed and haughtily informed her that, actually, he'd been to Sandrock before - he was no stranger to desert climates. But if Sandrock had been hot, then Barnarock was a melting pot.
He'd never been so staggered by heat before. He'd gotten a nasty sun burn too - right on the tip of his nose. Elizabeth had said it served him right for sticking his nose up so often. He'd considered his wrist firmly slapped. The difference in climate between Portia and Barnarock suddenly made her distaste for the cold very clear. He'd secretly taken to calling her his desert flower after that.
She stood at the fire for only a few minutes, warming her hands before continuing her sneaky tiptoeing to their bed. Quietly as she could, she stripped out of her ruin diving clothes, placing them gently on the floor - obviously of the inclination that it was well past the hour of folding clothes.
She didn't wear bed clothes usually, considering them a waste of time. But this was a particularly cold night so she opted for the closest thing to her; his sweater that he'd purposefully left draped over the chair earlier that evening; it was her favourite of his and if he knew anything, he knew his wife.
Still keeping up her sneaky persona, she crept under the covers.
Gust sighed happily when her arms wrapped themselves around his torso, her face buried in his hair. This, he thought, is how he wanted to spend the rest of his forever.
He was just drifting off into a - finally - restful sleep when she indulged herself by slipping her very cold hands under his pyjama top.
"Gracious Light !" He cursed, his stomach tensing horribly as she pressed her icy hands against his navel, clearly the fire hadn’t done all that it could.
"Mmm," she hummed into his hair, "you're so warm." Her words were muffled by his hair, her breath tickling his neck.
"Yes, and you're freezing ." He said through gritted teeth, his hands went to hers in an attempt to pry them from his skin but her grip was adamant. She moaned grumpily and wriggled herself closer to him. Gust gave up with a sigh.
Being careful not to disturb her, Gust turned first onto his back and then his other side to face his wife. She smiled innocently at his indignant look.
“Thin ice.” He mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her chilly body against his warm one. Elizabeth giggled and stretched up, placing a small, delicate kiss on his lips.
She was just about to make a joke about iciness when she felt his chest rising and falling in slow, sleepy breaths. There was a small pang of guilt in realising he’d stayed up waiting for her to come home. However, if she knew anything, she knew her husband; if Gust had an issue with it, he’d have told her by now.
Instead of worrying herself, she buried her face into his chest, sighed happily, and drifted off, happy that they would do it all again tomorrow.