[ Snow's gaze tracks him wordlessly, silently, as he makes his way across the room — it's not a very large space at all, so there's less distance for him to clear, and even as he settles himself into the chair with an accompanying creaking sound, she's somehow more conscious of his presence in this room than she was before she let him in to begin with.
But she doesn't say anything about it, even if there's a brief impulse to try and break the silence, to speak into the darkness once she reaches over and turns off the small light on the makeshift table beside the bed. In the darkness, she's aware of her own breathing, the slightest groan of the bedframe, while he seems to remain quiet and unmoving. She wonders, for a moment, whether he can still see in the dark even if he can't fully transform into the wolf anymore, whether he can see her lying awake, her eyes open, as she inhales slowly and then exhales just as slowly.
For a little while, she turns her head towards where he's sitting, waiting long enough that her eyes adjust to the darkness and she can see his silhouette in the chair, the outline of his head and shoulders. She glances in his direction right up until she feels her lids begin to droop, and when she finally drifts off to sleep, her breathing evening out, the last thought that crosses her mind is whether the chair will be empty by the time she wakes in the morning. ]
dropping one more in to close us out!
But she doesn't say anything about it, even if there's a brief impulse to try and break the silence, to speak into the darkness once she reaches over and turns off the small light on the makeshift table beside the bed. In the darkness, she's aware of her own breathing, the slightest groan of the bedframe, while he seems to remain quiet and unmoving. She wonders, for a moment, whether he can still see in the dark even if he can't fully transform into the wolf anymore, whether he can see her lying awake, her eyes open, as she inhales slowly and then exhales just as slowly.
For a little while, she turns her head towards where he's sitting, waiting long enough that her eyes adjust to the darkness and she can see his silhouette in the chair, the outline of his head and shoulders. She glances in his direction right up until she feels her lids begin to droop, and when she finally drifts off to sleep, her breathing evening out, the last thought that crosses her mind is whether the chair will be empty by the time she wakes in the morning. ]