[ Her eyes widen in worry at his exhale. Within a moment it is clear that it was not from pain or discomfort, and her heart beats louder in her chest. Her eyes flutter shut as she does her best to keep her breathing even--to little express. Some part of her clings to the knowledge he should rest with his tender side and the day to come, let alone the notions of what his culture surely taught him. The rest of her desperately wishes to let go and open herself to him as she wishes.

Would he think less of her or come to resent her if she did?

He is right to presume her thoughts as her eyes open with that very question in mind. Should she leave so he might find sleep? If she is pulling him from a much needed reprieve, then...

His smile causes her breath to catch in her throat and a blush to take her cheeks. The statement he proposed blanks for but a moment as she lays almost entranced by the expression alone. Her eyebrows turn upwards as she feels herself quietly losing the battle within.

Oh, yes. He had made an inquerey. How does she speak again--let alone breathe? ]

N-not as such, [ Her voice is lower than she thought. ] Several adventurers complimented me... but most sought to ask my hand in keeping them alive. This... you, I, I...

[ Words utterly fail her as she tries to put thoughts together. However, he is incredibly distracting, as the day she met him in Camp Dragonshead.

Seven hells. Does he have any ides what he does to her?

The hand covering his own trails lightly up his arm to rest on his cheek. The other at his side continues to gently rub the site of the wound. Her body shifts under him to encourage him as her control becomes a fleeting thing. If his look beckons her, then her look is simply begging him to move forward ... ]