Nightlocke sat in the marital bed she shared with Tanokotech, her husband of at least two-thousand years. She never slept; a past mistake prevented her from doing so. Instead, it was comforting to know that she could still curl up with a good book about the intricacies of sleep disorders and other sleep impairments.
As usual, Tanokotech was elsewhere in the castle, probably dancing or throwing Imps at the wall.
She didn't care. She didn't care for the past two-thousand years, why tonight?
Tanokotech slunk into the room, metallic blue smudges all over his jacket from where he tried to clean it in the Jacuzzi.
He was, however, completely lucid for a change.
Tanokotech patted Nightlocke's hand with his own, oversized hand.
"Hey," he said, retiring to the small cot on the opposite side of the room, which was literally on the other side of the world due to a complex curse laid upon the house by his in-laws. What monsters.
"You're conscious today," said Nightlocke, almost with contempt. She complained that Tanokotech never paid her any mind but realised that she liked the quiet of their room when no-one was there.