"And now I know," she says easily, barely blinking as she looks at his face. He looks softer like this, on the edge of sleep, and her eyes catch on his full lips, the slant of his nose, and his dark eyes. The inky spill of his air makes him look almost boyish, and she reaches out to rest her hand over his much larger one where it rests between them.

As always, her breath hitches the moment she touches him through the bond, and then the sensation settles into something like a soft, familiar hum. The pads of her fingers trace the veins on the back of his hand, trail over his knuckles as she watches his face.

"I'm glad that you're here," she admits quietly, turning his hand over so she can let her fingertips follow the lines on his palm.