He trailed his fingertips down her jaw, brushing his thumb against her lips. Her hands rested on his face, touching his temples, his lips, his jaw. He raised his eyes to hers, and saw in them a sense of longing, loneliness, and sorrow. He ran his hand through her hair, and pulled her head to his chest. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Why are you sad?”

She looked up, smiling gently, and replied, “What do you mean? How could I be sad right now?” Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

“I can tell. Your eyes look so sad.”

She buried her head in his shoulder, sighing deeply. Was it a sigh of contentment, or resignation? “I'm not sad,” she said softly, muffled by his bare shoulder.

He lifted her chin with a finger, and ran his thumb across her lower lip. He moved his face closer to hers, brushing his nose against hers. Her hand rose to his face, and he kissed her slowly. His hand moved down her neck, traced her collarbone, and she pulled away. He blushed and mumbled an apology.

“It's okay. I just...don't know.” Her head rested over his heart, gently rising and falling with his breaths.

They lay in silence for several minutes, and she shifted slightly to look up at him. “Why are you sad?” she asked quietly.

He was quiet for a moment, then replied, “I don't know, really. I s'pose that's a pretty bad answer,” he chuckled.

She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes, but her smile reflected the sorrow in her eyes. “I understand, actually.” Her hand searched under the blanket for his, and she entwined her fingers in his.

He stared at the ceiling until her breathing slowed and she was asleep. He looked down at her face resting on his chest, and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. She breathed in quickly, and nuzzled against him.

He closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.