What is she doing? he thought when she crawled into the space between his arms and curled into a ball. Using his arm as a pillow, she tucked her face against him and clasped her hands tightly against her chest. She looked tired, her face a tear-shed colour of pink. “I cannot sleep,” she explained. He figured it was so that he wouldn’t ask her to move. She is afraid. And the fact she was seeking comfort from him meant that she still regarded him as something safe. Something stirred in his chest, some unknown emotion. He moved the arm she wasn’t laying on so that it would curl around her body.
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