[The nights are the worst.

They're the worst because everything is far, far too quiet. They're the worst because his bed is way too big for him to be the only one in it, and he can't have Hatter with him all the time. They're the worst because he tosses and turns most nights and if he can't start sleeping properly, sooner or later it's going to trigger a really wretched migraine, and knowing that somehow makes it even harder to be restful.

They're the worst because every single time he wakes up, he still half expects to be at home, and the days are dragging on and on.

It's something like four in the morning right now and this might possibly be the worst night yet, because this one brought a dream of home with it and Break woke up confused. So now he's standing in the kitchen, barefoot and in his pajamas, tattoos out and ring exposed; he remembered to grab his glasses but his hair is an unholy mess and he looks like he is seriously thinking about cuddling that teapot.

The scent of chamomile is very strong.]