His jaw is still set, but she’s beginning to focus along the strong line of it instead of the pulsing jump of the muscle.
“Perhaps I failed to fully discern the extent to which your argument, though not overtly congruous, was in and of itself not illogical.”
She reaches out and touches his sleeve. The material of his uniform is soft under her fingers, the hard heat of his arm radiating through the thin fabric.
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to down play your-“
His hand is on hers, two fingers stroking the length of her palm.
“Oh,” she says.
The mattress is soft under her back, his hands buried in her hair and their legs tangling as they both scramble for purchase.