She laid on her back, looking up at the ceiling with him. After a minute, he would feel her hand find his.
She was quiet for a moment before she spoke, her head turning to him and her eyes studying his features. "Why me?" she asked, her voice scarcely louder than a whisper.
She tilted her head, considering this for a moment. “Other people can be nice,” she told him quietly.
“There’s no reason why it shouldn’t extend to others,” she whispered, turning on her side to watch him. “I’m nothing special.”
She had gotten closer to him in the night, her anger leaving her in sleep. Her arms were tucked neatly around his waist, and her head was on his chest.
She was holding him, and she started to slip off him as he woke up. She shifted, clearly about to wake up, small murmurs escaping her mouth.
His lack of movement caused her to drift back into a light sleep. Her hand came up and cupped the side of his neck gently.