. blame

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Nicholas Khan lay under a weighted blanket, on his memory foam mattress, his plush pillows lavender scented and his room at the optimum temperature of 65 degrees. These were just a handful of the recommendations made to insomniacs, and none had ever had much of a positive impact on his condition. Truthfully, only sleep drugs had ever helped at all, and he believed that even those would fail him now. This was because he was having an especially hard time sleeping these days, even for himself, and this was down to the one thing that kept so many normal people awake at night -- money issues. A fresh bill had come in today and with so many of the big digital publishers, Buzzfeed, Vice, Huffpo and co, all making cutbacks, this increase in expenses had come at a less than ideal time, what with there being a considerable lack of work to be had. That was what Nick put his money issues primarily down to, refusing to acknowledge that adopting Naila and starting a relationship with her mother had had any financial impact at all. He insisted on buying the name brand cereal Nai preferred, he stuck to his and Freya's Thursday takeout tradition no matter what bill came through, and he obsessively obscured any sign of his struggles from August and Theodora, knowing that they would transfer him cash no matter how much he begged them not to, if only they knew. There was one person he was unable to completely hide the situation from, and that was Freya. Slipping an arm around her waist, he pulled her in close to him, kissing her neck gently. "Are you awake? I'm not gonna be able to sleep, want me to make you something to eat?" One positive from her current lack of employment was that she had more free time, and with it, more of a willingness to throw off her sleep schedule to keep him company. "Or we could take a bath."

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Freya quietly pushes covers off her warm body. Naturally a hot sleeper, having Nick in the bed makes her feverish and her back feels clammy with sweat. She reaches her arm over her head to fork her dark mass of hair and buries her face into her forearm. Since being laid off a couple of weeks ago, she'd been a little extra indulgent with sleep. Winter blues combined with Nick insisting on Naila time made Freya over indulge in an extra hour of sleep in the morning. However, this morning wasn't a case of sleeping in. New York was still under a sheet of darkness but she could feel her boyfriend shifting anxiously on the other side of the bed. His warm arm pulls she in and then he presses his lips on the nape of her neck. Freya groans softly and turns her body to lean into his shape. “Mhm,” she murmurs, her arms reach and her fingers grasp at his flesh. She pushes into him, her face burying into his chest as her leg hooks around his hips in effort to hold him there. “Is it early? Or late?” she says sleepily, “maybe a bath.” Her body stretches a little and her muscles loosen. “In ten minutes, okay? Extra bubbles.”

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Despite his constant rotation of girlfriends, it had been a long time since Nick had actually consistently shared a bed with someone else. Corinne hadn't been able to stay over much as he'd been living with August and wanted to keep their relationship secret, and Elena had been fiercely protective of her alone time, often slipping out and heading home instead of sleeping over. It had made him realize he was not an easy person to share with, as he knew his fidgeting, his tossing and turning, would surely be annoying to Freya. Thankfully she had been able to have more lie ins lately, and though he worried about what this said about her mental state, he also made sure to leave her alone to have them, hoping she'd catch up on any rest he'd disturbed.  Then there were times like this, where he just actively bothered her. He smiles as she nestles into him, her petite frame neatly folding into his. Holding her close for a second, he kisses the top of her head.  "It's early. Like 4, if I had to guess," he says, though there's no clock in the room (another classic insomniac tip).  He nods as she talks about the bath, though now he's too comfortable to move. Gently his fingers stroke her back as he enjoys the feeling of having her cuddle up to him. "I was thinking," he starts, unsure if he should say this aloud. "Maybe I'll get a job. Something more permanent than freelancing, you know, like, in a bar or something. I'm awake all night anyway."

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She whines when he mentions how early in the morning it is. Having spent most of her early twenties as a young wife and mother, she didn't exist at this time and the only time she had was during Naila's early feedings. Freya clocked out around ten and was back at it at six. But since Nick, she had been seeing more dark mornings. He would shift in the bed and she'd be awake, aware of his fidgeting. Her being a light sleeper created friction against his insomnia. Her eyes are closed and she's only half awake listening to him. But she aware enough to reject his idea and shake her head. "No, that's my job," she adjusts her body to lay on her back, her blue eyes opening and blinking into consciousness. "Really, it is. I've been applying to everything and everything includes bartending."

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The answer Freya gives is exactly the one he anticipated, but its expectedness doesn't make it any more easy to hear. He shakes his head, missing her already as she peels herself away from him. "Juggling school, work and being a mom was way too much for you, I've always said that," he says, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Naila. "I mean, it would be too much for anyone. You handled it amazingly, but it was too much." He rolls onto his back beside her, staring up at the ceiling and noticing cracks he hadn't seen before. He had been thinking about their predicament obsessively, even before she'd lost her job. Work was thin on the ground for him too and not for the first time, he was starting to wonder if freelancing was compatible with his new life, with all its fresh responsibilities. Truthfully, he was wondering if maybe August had been right all along, that journalism wasn't really working out.  Not that August had actually said that, or at least not in those terms. "I think it's probably time I got a bit more serious," he said finally, his tiredness evident in his voice. He shifts uncomfortably, his back aching from all the tossing and turning. In fact his entire body was aching in some way or another, his stomach twisted up with nerves, his teeth aching from grinding in the few hours sleep he did get. "Besides, we can't both work behind a bar. Not unless they have a bring your daughter to work policy, and as far as I'm aware, the State of New York doesn't love the idea of child bartenders."

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Freya sighs. Nick was protective. Over them, his friends and everyone he loved. There were parts of it she admired, like how he stepped up to parent Naila. It was more than she could have asked but she needed it and so did her vulnerable daughter. But there were parts that were frustrating. Moments where she felt like her ability to provide for her family and self were being threatened. This was one of those instances. She felt her frustrating mounting. "It's a necessity. And I want to. I like having my own money." She huffs and folds back into him, resting her head on his large chest. "Do it if you want. But do it for you. Okay? Maybe try a full time writer position. Or even accept more sponsors for the podcast, even if they're bullshit, she kisses his chest, "I know it's been stressful."

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Nick wanted nothing more than to swoop in and make everything okay. It was a trait that he did indeed apply to everyone he loved, but especially so to Freya. Even now he tortured himself with all times he missed the signs, thinking back on how obvious Rafi's abuse had been. Of course it wasn't that obvious in reality, with both Rafi and Freya becoming adept at hiding it away. But Nick constantly thought of all the times he had left her alone with his brother, times he had sensed tension but decided to mind his own business, times he had flirted with her in Rafi's presence, times he had surely caused issues for her. He felt it so intensely at times that it was almost as if he had done the abusing himself. But he knew this was frustrating for Freya, who had worked so hard to move past it that it must be infuriating that he couldn't do the same. So he smothered it, only for it to bubble up in ways like this. "There's not many going," he said, having trawled the internet for open positions for weeks now. He nodded. The relative success of the podcast was a total lifeline at the moment, and he knew that if he explained the situation to Athena, she'd understand. He kissed the top of her head, starting to play with her hair. "I know, I know. But childcare's expensive, and I hate seeing you stressed..." he drifts, hesitating over his next comment. "It'd help if we only had one place to cover rent on."