Ben did not take the offered seat, but he did stay for a while longer, lowering himself instead into the chair by the sofa. Elbow resting on his knees, he let his head hang low, exhausted and practically buzzing with conflict.

He watched her, her lips parted. The soft, rhythmic flutter of her breath was unfamiliar, yet he found it comforting in ways he did not wish to examine. She stirred now and then, a crease between her brows, but her sleep was deep and restful.

He wished, with nearly overwhelming intensity, to step into her dreams, to see for himself what she might have been thinking. Instead, he finally stood, and while he considered leaving some sort of note, he knew that she would call to him if she needed to.

With one last glance, he slipped quietly out of her apartment. He left his coat behind.