He lay still and silent, letting her be the one to choose. As with the rest of all this: he didn't know if that was him respecting her or burdening her; being penitent or abdicating his fair share.

His ceiling-side arm had lain, still, patient if awkward, over his own side. As she moved ever closer to his mattress-side arm, the ceiling-side moved; and his ceiling-facing hand, so lightly, tentative, found and traced a nonsense glyph on her wrist.