It's just for a moment. They'll linger and when it's done, they'll play cards. Ephemera will curse and struggle to keep up, and Drake will win fewer hands than he could. There's comfort in the repetition, in knowing exactly how it will end. And he doesn't intend to sleep, but Drake is warm and steady and Ephemera keeps his eyes closed. Breathes.

Lets go.

There are no dreams. And when Ephemera wakes up, blinking, there's sunlight in the room.

Drake is still there. He stayed the whole time.

Ephemera rubs his face with a groan. "Oh."

Morning means he has to get up.

He shifts to meet Drake's eyes briefly. "Thanks. For staying."

It ought to be said.