“…Yeah, that’s fine,” she mumbles without lifting her head. “We should bathe before one of us falls asleep.” Which is her way of admitting she’s dangerously close to dozing off, still wrapped up in a kind of warmth she isn’t used to and doesn’t trust.

She shifts slightly, not pulling away but reminding herself she still has things to do. Her limbs feel heavy with that deep ache that only comes when you finally let your guard down. It feels nice. Too nice. And that’s what makes it so damn uncomfortable.

“I’m not gonna be much help getting there, so don’t expect me to walk straight,” she mutters, the edge of defiance dulled by exhaustion. Her fingers curl lightly into his side, like she’s steadying herself—for movement, maybe, or just for whatever comes next.