"Where are you going?" Ash stopped me with an arm around my middle, hanging half out of his bed. 

We came back from the studio after almost nine hours of rehearsal and recording. All the technicians were ready to drop dead. But Ash wouldn't let them pack up. He had kept playing his guitar like a possessed boy. It was Henry who had finally snapped a 'that's fucking enough.' The whole room sighed in relief when Ash let go of the abused guitar.

He just now settled in his room after a late dinner. I should have known that he's not yet ready to sleep.

"My room." I tried.

I stayed in the house, right next to his room. It was Thomas' idea. It became beneficial in the long run. To run to Ash for his beck and call, to avoid sneaky fan girls getting too comfortable. To sleep peacefully in the small precious windows I got in-between my bodyguard duty.

"Stay." He patted next to him.

"We have to start early." There's a video shoot tomorrow morning with some vlog lady in a beach resort. 

"This is a big bed." He waved his free hand around, showing off his bed.

I chuckled. "I know. It took six hours to assemble." It's one of the few furniture he chose for himself. It was the biggest bed on the catalog — bigger than a double king. Thankfully the room was large enough to accommodate it without making the place look cramped.

He sat up. "I don't want to sleep alone." 

"You should have thought about that before kicking your girl to the curb."

Kara was a receptionist in the recording studio and he had fucked her in the car backseat this afternoon. When she hinted at joining him for the night, he outright said no.

I had seen the same scene so many times with different women, I should have been immune to the girl's shocked, wide, tear filled eyes caused by the cold hearted rejection. But it got to me every fucking time. I hoped one day he would meet his match. A strong willed, smart girl, who would make him beg and cry for her attention.

"She's not my girl. Please, Nick." He took my hand in his, eyes beseeching. "Just till I fall asleep. Then you can go."

I let out a breath. He was a people person. The only two places he preferred to be alone were his studio room and the bathroom. It could be the reason why he always had a girl around.

I dimmed the lights and parked myself on a chair at the head of the bed.

He eyed me. "You should lay down."

"I'm still in uniform." It's a dumb excuse. I was almost always in my uniform. I barely wore any other clothes.

"Change it."

I sighed. "No."

"You used to sleep with me remember?" He said in a small voice.

And just like that, my heart became mushy. Those were black days for Ash. 

"You're better now..." I said, a question lurking behind my words. His PTSD was a thing of the past. Heavy injuries and bleeding were the only code red triggers.

"Just... hug me. Please?"

His eyes were clouded, face pinched as if he's getting ready for an injection.

I gave in. When he got like that, not a single soul could say no.

"Remove your shoes." He said when I tried to sit on the bed.

"Ash... "

"I want a proper hug."

I kicked off my shoes and stretched next to him. Ash folded into my side. I loosely placed my arm around him.

He sighed in contentment.

This was his proper hug. Touching head to toe. If any stranger saw us, it would be scandalous. A bodyguard in the bed with his client —stuff for tabloids.

"I couldn't write. It's been three days." He said in a whisper.

"Music or lyrics?"

"Both."

"Oh." No wonder he's worried.

"I'm getting choked with it. The words and the chords. There are too many."

I had no clue what that meant. 

I didn't possess a single creative gene in my body. My school life had consisted of one thing— football. 

Instead of answering, I went with another question. 

"Is that why you snapped at Kester?" I asked tentatively. Ash snapped at people for reasons that were beyond their capacity. Once he had yelled at a cameraman because he had gotten a throat infection from a random restaurant cool drink.

"He is an asshole, Nick. Don't talk about him." He replied, irritation lacing his tone.

I got the full dialogue to dialogue report from Rob and Jonas. Kester had done what he always did—his job. It's Ash who had been in a mood. I had no doubt.

"Okay." I said.

"What if I can't write anymore?" He started writing on my torso with his index finger. Long cursive letters in a lazy crawl. I couldn't make out the word.

"Then you won't."

I concentrated on the letters he traced on the fabric of my shirt with the tip of the finger. Night? Right? I couldn't guess the first letter.

"But… it's not that easy. I have to write."

"It's that easy. You can do this only if you enjoy. If you start stressing…" I shrugged.

"I'm so stressed. Like, so much. Like, my head is under a huge mountain made of words, surrounded by swords, getting swamped by the pressure. Like, I can't breathe. Like, I need to pick it all up. Like it's the only way up." He said in a quiet voice.

"This sounds like a nice lyrics." 

"It does?"

"I'd buy."

His finger stopped its crawl and his hand came to rest on my cheek. "But Nick, this is not what I want to write."

I sighed and closed my eyes. Willing my mind away from the gentle fingers resting on my face and towards the current problem.

"So what you want and what you can aren't the same." I said.

"Exactly. I feel like I have a trillion things swimming around in my head. But the one thing I want is being a slippery fuck." 

He put a leg over my middle. I kept my eyes shut.

"You'll catch it. If not, don't stress. You'll forget it, eventually. Remember how you were dying to write a song about mermaids in heat?" I smiled as I said.

God, he hadn't eaten properly or taken a bath for three days because he had been trying to write a song explaining mermaids who were dying of horniness. Fuck knows where or why he got the idea to write about some fantasy creature.

'Mermaids deserted mermaids..
Without kisses..
Lips blue, scales grey..'

That's all anyone had heard for three fucking days and nights. His fingers plucking out the same strings on his ukulele again and again, driving everyone around him crazy. Then suddenly on the fourth day, early morning, he stopped it.

No one could figure out why he gave up on them. Just like that he had let go of the mermaids and finished writing five songs about milky way, space, galaxy and shooting satellites. All in the span of twenty four hours. That album– One Way Satellite was done and ready and was released in exactly three months from that day. Even after two years, it still had a place in the top hundred list. All the songs were inspiring, hopeful and bright tunes with soulful lyrics loaded with humanity, love and compassion for greater good. Henry had been so relieved about the fact that there wasn't a single song about horny mermaids or even astronauts.

"Shit." Ash said, clearly remembering his smelly, no-shower days.

"Right. This too will pass."

"Thanks, Nick." He kissed my neck.

I let out another sigh. It was the easiest way to convey all my thoughts without him understanding them. I had long ago made my peace with this. Ash could do anything he wanted with me. His display of love is pure and simple. I would keep it that way even if it killed me.

"Try to sleep."

He gasped. "OMG!! I know why I can't write."

"Why?"

"It's the lonely mermaids. They're angry with me."

I snorted.

 Ash glared at me from his perch on my chest. "For real, Nick. They're vengeful. I should write their song first. I shouldn't have postponed it."

"Good. Sleep now."

He gave a long sigh and settled again above my heart.

It didn't take long, after that. He slept, fingers curled over my throat, steady breath fanning my neck.

I waited for a few more minutes before slowly untangling him from me. He was a sound sleeper, he wouldn't wake up easily.

Once outside of his room, I turned on my Secpho.

"Ash is asleep. Tier two can retire."

"Yes, Boss. Good night." Tolan's chirpy voice answered.

How could he be this chirpy at the middle of the night? It must be the young age.

I sighed.

"Boss?" Rob's voice questioned through the ear piece.

"Nothing. Why are you still here?"

"Just came in. Filling in for Seb."

"Okay. I'm going to bed. Good night, Rob."

"Good night, Boss."

Each of them had a six to eight hour shift depending on the time of the day. Rob was always ready for an extra shift.  I hoped the extra cash eased whatever his financial needs were. I hoped he wouldn't bail from tier one duty after one week, like the other guys. I hoped Ash would get used to Rob and let me have some free time to pursue a love life.

For tonight, I hoped I would sleep for the remainder of the night. Four hours of continuous sleep was a blessing in my life.