in the light of shared company

She laughs, hand covering her mouth in an attempt to keep silent, to keep their mother or the staff from hearing them. They don’t get to do this often, in where they sneak under the covers of each other’s beds and talk until they have to sleep, until the lids of their eyes droop in a sign that sleep is not too far away from them. They’ve always taken comfort in this, in the hiding of their covers and taking the moments to spend the minutes before sleep with each other. It isn’t like they don’t see or talk to each other, but the closeness that is between the two of them always dictates that they should say goodnight words to each other before parting to bed.