When Clair awoke from her nightmare, she was surprised to feel the warmth of the thin body beneath her. She let out a shuddering breath to calm herself. Logan still clung to her with both arms, chest rising and falling as he slept. She realized that she had become unused to listening to another's breathing like this, but the sound comforted her with its rhythm.
It still worried her—their conversation had ended on what was a troublesomely tentative note. She thought back to his story as she relaxed against him. Surely he knew that she had heard and seen worse than all that he had said: men and women who were so wounded that they could not move on, the war having ravaged their minds and bodies beyond repair until not even their families could recognize them. It had shocked her, yes, but surely he would know that she could see past such things, and that she too knew what it was like to endure irreversible harm.
Or perhaps he was hiding something more from her, and her feelings toward him had dulled her mind.
Her thoughts turned to the kiss-how sincere it had all been, how much more tender and desperate and real it had seemed, as if he had given up on fighting himself, until she couldn't help but press back into him in reciprocation. She knew how he felt—lonely and divided, like herself. She hadn't lied: she wanted him, in a way. His presence comforted her, and fed her need for a kind of intimacy that her relationship with Nel lacked. Yet she was unsure of where she was going with all this, or where it would stop. She had implied that she envisioned him as the sort of friend who would occasionally furnish her bed in between philosophy, tea, and games of chess, but it was more than that even. She wanted affirmation in which neither of them could afford to indulge, whatever their reasons.
Logan coughed lightly, startling Clair. He murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, then tightened his grip on her so that the feel of his bones became more apparent through his clothing. That worried her too...
She buried herself in him again, exhaling softly. She supposed she would speak to him about everything later—maybe over runic chess and a plate of more eggs than he could eat.