IV. Whisper it into her hair in the middle of the night, after you've counted the space between her breaths and are certain she's asleep. Shut your eyes quickly when she shifts toward you in askance. Maybe you were just sleep whispering.

"Hey," Monica whispered, kissing his cheek.

They were lying in Chandler's bed, and the room was dark as it was getting late. Chandler checked his bedside table to find the numbers 11:47 glowing in red. He sighed. He knew this meant that Monica would try to sneak out soon to get back to her place. She told Chandler earlier this week that she had a feeling Rachel was getting suspicious and that made her nervous, but still, Chandler hated watching her leave. He discovered in the past few months that he slept better with Monica in his arms.

They had just spent a wonderful evening and as much as Chandler enjoyed having sexual intercourse with his girlfriend, he realised that he enjoyed cuddling in the afterglow just as much, if not more. His past girlfriends used to reproach him with his fear of commitment but with Monica, it was different. He could be himself because she knew him, there were no surprises there. Still, Chandler was more than happy to amaze her when he admitted that he liked this new intimacy that the two of them shared. He had come a long way.

"Hey," Chandler answered softly, his hand gently stroking her hair.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said," she rolled over to prop her chin up on Chandler's chest, looking at him through her eyelashes. Chandler frowned, dropping his hand from her head to squeeze her shoulder.

"Apologize?" he asked, not understanding what she had to be sorry for.

"When I said you were a suck-up because you laughed at your boss' jokes. I'm sorry," she explained and Chandler smiled.

"You were right, though," Chandler admitted. "I mean, his jokes are lame! I am way funnier than that clown," he stated with confidence but then quickly shifted to worry when Monica didn't say a thing and just looked at him amused. "I am funnier, right?"

"You are the funniest," she declared, a huge grin on her face as she leaned in for a kiss. "And I have so much respect for you, whether or not you laugh at Doug's stupid with that irritating sound coming out of your mouth," she reassured him.

"You wanna know how I came up with that laugh?" Chandler asked, mischief in his eyes. He smiled smugly. "Janice."

Monica groaned, which made Chandler laugh as he hugged her closer to him, pressing a kiss on top of her head. "I knew that sounded familiar," she complained.

They laid in a comfortable silence for a while, just listening to the other's heartbeat. Chandler was absentmindedly tracing patterns on the skin of Monica's back. It was well past midnight and Chandler could tell she was getting sleepy.

"I should go," she said quietly after a while and Chandler's heart sunk as she pulled away.

"You could stay," he proposed, his voice too hopeful. He watched as she slipped into a tank top, her hair a mess and he could swear he'd never seen someone as beautiful before.

"Chandler," she sighed. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was disappointed.

"Come on," he pleaded, grabbing her waist and pulling her back down to the bed, kissing the side of her neck. He was delighted to hear her giggle as he pressed his fingers into her sides, where he knew it would tickle. "It's late."

"But Rachel —"

"Is probably asleep right now, just like Joey. You can sleep here and go back home tomorrow morning, God knows Joey won't be up."

"But isn't Rachel gonna ask questions?"

"She'll ask questions anyway, just say you had a date and spent the night with the guy," Chandler tried to convince her and he knew she was hesitating now.

"It's not totally a lie," Monica reasoned, and Chandler smiled.

"No, it's just not the complete truth," he agreed.

She was silent for a moment and Chandler could only imagine her debating the whole thing in her head. Eventually, she shrugged. "Okay, I'll stay here tonight," she decided and slipped back under the covers next to Chandler.

Chandler grinned when she snuggled up against his side, wrapping her arm around him and resting her head on his chest. He nuzzled her hair, feeling so warm and happy to spend a couple extra hours with her.

"This is nice," he sighed contentedly and Monica slowly nodded in agreement.

"I like you like this," Monica quietly told him.

Chandler raised a questioning eyebrow. "As opposed to?"

He felt Monica smile against his skin. "I always like you, you dumbass. You're funny, you're smart —"

"And cute," he added. She giggled.

"And cute," she agreed. "But that's the Chandler everyone knows."

"Everyone finds me cute? Really?" he asked doubtfully.

"Well, I find you cute and that should be enough mister," Monica replied and Chandler chuckled.

"There we go," he said as he kissed the top of Monica's head.

"But I like you like this because that's the Chandler only I get to see," she continued and Chandler felt his own heart rate pick up.

"Yeah? And what's he like?"

Monica started to distractedly stroke Chandler's chest. "He's sweet. He's caring. He strokes my hair and he kisses my nose. He always knows what to say to make me feel better."

Chandler suddenly felt very warm. He was very aware of his own heartbeat and wondered if Monica could hear it as clearly as he did. He hoped not. To Chandler, it seemed like a confession of love was on its way and he didn't know how to react. He had been fretting about it in the past couple of weeks, with the vocal message, the sex incident, and the restaurant debacle. It was always on his mind and yet, the timing never seemed right.

He feared if Monica told him she loved him, the words would get stuck in his throat. This was not how he had envisioned it.

"He's the one who kills the spiders in my kitchen," Monica's voice brought him out of his internal panic. "And when he holds me, that's when I feel the safest."

"Monica," he murmured, at a loss for words.

"I know it's cheesy," she yawned. "But I'm glad that these things are just ours."

"It's sweet," Chandler told her for lack of anything better to say. It was so much more than just sweet: Chandler had the feeling that she had worn her heart out on her sleeve and his mind was still clouded by this unbelievable happiness he felt deep in his bones.

This love.

"We should really get to sleep," Monica yawned again.

"Yeah," Chandler agreed quietly but his mind was reeling. He knew there was no way he'd be falling asleep anytime now.

Instead, he kissed Monica goodnight and watched her as she closed her eyes, her face soft and peaceful. She was still cuddling him and unlike when he was with Janice, he never wanted her to let go. He didn't care about the hair in his face or the fact that he'd probably wake up with a numb arm as long as he got to hold her close. He didn't care if he'd have to kill all the spiders in the world, he'd do it as long as she was his.

In the silence of his room, he listened to the calming sound of her breath. He watched, as hypnotized, the rise and fall of her chest. He counted the seconds, one, two, three, between each breath, and noticed when three turned to four and four to six. Chandler didn't know how long he spent just watching her sleep in his arms but when he saw her eyelids flutter, he found himself wondering what she was dreaming about. If she was dreaming of him.

"Mon," he sighed quietly, barely audible to his own ears. "I've never been as happy as when I'm with you."

When he was met with silence, he took it as his cue to continue.

"I just want you to know that I'll always care about you. I'll always run my fingers through your hair and I'll always kiss your cute little nose. I'll always come running to save you from those spiders and I swear I'll always try my best to make you feel better."

He watched her again, her face beautiful and serene and Chandler thought that was the way it should be. He never wanted to see her upset or sad. She didn't deserve it.

"I love you," he murmured into the night, a certain weight lifted off his chest. "I love you, Monica."

Monica suddenly moved towards him, throwing Chandler into panic mode again as he quickly shut his eyes, pretending to sleep.

Because while sleeping, he knew he couldn't stop himself from telling her. When he slept, his subconscious took control and God only knew Monica was the one thing always on his mind.