He kept his back to her—which, among people like them, was perhaps the greatest sign of trust—as he shed the towel and quickly replaced it with sleeping pants.

For the first time, he didn't bother with a shirt.

He returned to her side, and finally slipped under the sheets beside her.

He didn't simply grab her. (For better or worse: he would never. Never presume consent just because it had been granted before.)

Instead, like alerting her to his presence (though of course her other senses would have done so already), his hand came up to trace a line on her face and brush a strand of her hair behind her ear.