At some point I fall asleep too. Noise from the television doesn't make me stir a fraction. I sleep deeply from exhaustion for three hours before I am startled by someone moving beside me. I open my eyes and see Liza getting under my arm. I scoot farther into the sofa to make space for her, all the time wondering what is going on.

Rather than lying down though, she starts fumbling for something. I am utterly confused. She gets the remote controller, and presses buttons shiftlessly. I assume she wants to watch TV, so I sit up too. In her haste she turns it off instead. Suddenly, she chucks the remote away and gets up. I would have gone back to bed without thinking much about it, had I not seen how out of balance she is walking like she is not fully in coordination of her body.

I get up and follow after her. Before she bumps into a stool in front of her, I catch her shoulders to hold her steady. Her head is drooping.

I turn her around and I am shocked at what is going on. With her eyes shut she tries to get out of my grip but I do not budge. She mumbles a few incomprehensible sentences before falling onto me fatigued. Her sleepwalking episode over.

I lift her into my arm and carry her back to bed as quietly as I can, to avoid waking her up. As I am retreating, I bump into a futon and the boxes which were on it fall down creating a lot of noise. I wince, wishing she doesn't hear that ruckus. She is already waking up when I look back.

We meet eyes and hers are full of questions. For a second as her mind clears she smiles at me, happy to see me, but then a frown takes over and she sits up with a fear I regret seeing in her eyes.

"Sorry." I say as I make my way to the door.

"Wait." I notice the cute Star Wars pajamas she was wearing the first time we met, in the hallway. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Um... I think you were wandering around so I led you back to bed." I answer cautiously, I've got no business accusing her of sleepwalking, I know nothing for sure.

She looks horrified. From her expression, I conclude that I was right. "Sorry." She looks like she can read my mind. says from underneath. I approach her bed and sit on the edge.

"Don't apologise. Has this happened before?" I ask with concern. Instead of speaking she nods and burrows into the duvet. She is ashamed. "Hey, look at me." I demand. I can't have a conversation with her if I can't gauge her expression.

She pulls the duvet away but doesn't meet my eye. I put a finger on her chin and lift her gaze up to meet mine. "Is it serious?" I entreat her gently.

"Sometimes." She is uncomfortable talking about it, but I have one more question to ask her.

"Were you sleepwalking that time in the hallway?" She winces at the memory, for some reason she chuckles. At the sound the mood lightens, I presume she finds that memory funny.

"Yup." She says hastily. "Let's not talk about this." I get up to let her sleep again, I am tired too anyway. She holds onto my wrist before I reach far. "May you stay for a while?" Her eyes look fearful, and it worries me.

I sit back down. She doesn't say anything for some time. "What should we do now?" I ask.

"Let's play twenty questions." She says with excitement back in her eyes. Such a childish game. "I don't know much about you." She says as an afterthought.

"Okay. You start." I answer anyway. I scoot back until my back is against the headboard. Liza sits up too and faces me.

She puts a finger on her chin as she thinks, such a novel character. "What is your favorite color?"

"Grey." That is definitely a no-brainer. "What's yours?"

"Blush pink."

"Is that any different from pink?" I ask with amazement.

She shakes her head at me. "Wait your turn, mister." She reprimands me like a mom does a naughty child. "But yes, blush pink is lighter and more elegant." I'll just take her word because I don't know the difference. "So my question, what is your favorite snack?"

"Lay's" I answer. "Yours?"

"Chocolate, obviously." She answers. At this point I know she is warming up for bigger questions, which only makes me anxious. "What is your favorite sport?"

"Soccer." This is quite an easy game. "You?"

"I don't know, being a fan?" It comes out as more of a question than a statement.

"Really?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"That's all I seem to do where sports are concerned." She shrugs. "What is your favorite book?"

"I don't like reading." I answer evasively, "But long ago it was The Adventures of Tom Sawyer "

Her eyes light up, "Oh, I loved that book. Tom Sawyer was such an interesting character, he made me wish for a brother long ago." She laughs like that is the most absurd thing imaginable.

"So you love reading?" I ask and she nods. "What is your favorite book then?"

"I don't know. The list is endless." She answers. "But at the moment I might say, The Hating Game." She thinks for a moment before asking me something else, "Where did you grow up from?" Memories from the place come back to me, most of them sad ones. She notices my sad expression, "I can ask something else." She says apologetically

"Brighton." I answer. "You?"

"Pimlico, as you already know." She answers, "Hey, you aren't asking me anything I haven't asked." She looks at me with a hurt expression, "Don't you want to know anything particular about me?"

I panic; is that the message I am giving right now? "No, I want to know everything about you." I answer in an attempt to pacify the situation.

"I was kidding." She says with a laugh. "Ok. What is your most embarrassing possession?" She asks with a devious look in her eyes, told ya.

"Do I have to answer this?" If I say it, it will be used against me for sure.

"Yes. Or you face the consequences." She says.

"What consequences?" I answer as defiantly.

"Um..." She contemplates for a moment to no avail, she sighs, "Just answer." She answers after failing to come up with one.

Here goes nothing, "I have a Hello Kitty doll which a cousin gave me an eternity ago, and I can't get myself to throw it away." She bursts out laughing; as expected. I join in despite my mortifying embarrassment.

"Wow. This is priceless information. I'll be using this in the future." She says with a mischievous glint in her eyes, and keeps on laughing until her eyes tear up. When her laughing has died down, we proceed.

"To be fair, what is the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?" I ask.

She hesitates to answer, "Once, I didn't know that we had visitors and I went to the living room holding an underwear peg with my underwear on it. I entered and saw the visitors, among them was my crush at the time. I screamed and didn't come out of my room 'til the next day."

"Okay. I don't get what the big deal is."

"There was a rather suggestive underwear on it which I'd gotten from my aunt but couldn't even dare to wear, and he saw it. After that time, I couldn't look him in the eyes without remembering that, no wonder he never asked me out." She says. I am not sure I want to discuss crushes considering I was rejected a mer hours ago. She notices how awkward the conversation is and continues the game. "Back to business, when did you meet Asher and Luca?"

"We met in middle school." I say with a nostalgic smile. "Back then I was the lanky kid, and Asher was chubby and shy, and Luca, well, he has always been Luca." Ah, the good old days. When I only needed my friends and a heap of food to live, how quick times change, am I right?

She looks at me with disbelief, "I can't imagine you being lanky!" Her hand gets ahold of my bicep and squeezes as though the lanky kid is in there somewhere. "In my mind you are just like this." She says and let's go.

"Like what?" I ask with mischief

"You know what you look like." She answers evasively.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" I tease her some more.

"You know, good looking..." Her answer elicits a smirk from me. She gets out of bed and pushes me to the door as I laugh at her. "You are no fun." She says as she closes the door on me.

"Come on, you can admit that you like what you see." I tell her through the door.

"Whatever." She answers. "Go to sleep." I hear her walk away.

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