“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he whispered, moving away— And she caught him, her ink-stained fingers clutching his arms with an ornithologist’s strength. “It’s a cold night,” she said. “Logic dictates we share the bed. If we remain clothed, it will be quite safe.” He raised an eyebrow at that. “Darling, someone should have included at least a little of the humanities in your education.” “I trust you,” she insisted, proving that he’d corrupted her indeed, considering she was able to say something so villainous. His wretched, malnourished heart dropped to its knees and began weeping. He flinched,
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