From the couch, a figure was just sitting up, becoming aware of her presence. He looked at her, his expression hidden by the darkness.
She didn’t need the light to know what expression he chose to hide under the shadow of night.
And because he knew that she loved him, he would look everywhere but in her eyes.
No words were spoken, but he would try to show how much he didn’t care, about her, about himself, about anything. He would say with that expression that he didn’t need her or anyone. But she knew him well enough to know that it was a lie, because those were the times when he needed her the most.