[Part of him wants to chase her as she withdraws, but he doesn't, recognizing the implication for what it is. Instead he exhales softly and leans back against the mattress, his hands sliding away to fold together at his stomach, a self-restraint to keep himself from unintentionally overreaching again. Whatever it is that just happened wasn't meant to happen; as she'd said, she fell. Just an accident, nothing more.
"Maybe."
He doesn't really know what that means, but he has no choice but to follow her body language in this; that language says "no" quite clearly. That's fine. He wasn't looking for more or anything like that. Just... an accident.
His head's pounding again, suddenly, as his body catches up with reality, so he closes his eyes to evade the light, the heat, all of it. Maybe if he stops looking at her, he'll stop feeling whatever this is.]
Sorry... for the trouble. I didn't mean to leave a mess.
[Said mess could refer to the other room or himself, and both would be accurate.]
no subject
"Maybe."
He doesn't really know what that means, but he has no choice but to follow her body language in this; that language says "no" quite clearly. That's fine. He wasn't looking for more or anything like that. Just... an accident.
His head's pounding again, suddenly, as his body catches up with reality, so he closes his eyes to evade the light, the heat, all of it. Maybe if he stops looking at her, he'll stop feeling whatever this is.]
Sorry... for the trouble. I didn't mean to leave a mess.
[Said mess could refer to the other room or himself, and both would be accurate.]