His fingers drum softly against her arm, in perfect rhythm. It's that song from his dream again--he's not sure why he suddenly remembers it. That was the last time they shared his bed (though it would not be so... uneventful now, and he wouldn't dream of such things in his current form).

But he seems to make up his mind, stooping to press his pale lips against her forehead and tighten his nails into the fabric of her shirt.

"It's unsettling, still, to have people in here. I'd be more than happy to lay around with you for a while otherwise..." He trails off, hoping to convey his message. It's fine, just not here.