Unedited.
As Harold lay on his side of the bed, he wondered why she did not put a pillow between them to demarcate their sides of the bed like she had done the previous night.
Did she even realize just how much she was beginning to let down her guard around him with each passing day? He mused.
Not that he didn't want her to. He was actually glad that she was gradually getting accustomed to being with him, whether or not she knew it.
He wondered what she was thinking about and why she was so unusually quiet. Was she still feeling guilty over what she had done? Should he reassure her that he was not angry?
He decided against it as soon as it crossed his mind. Telling her that what she did was okay and he was not angry would encourage her to even do worse things. So he stayed quiet and just listened to the even sound of her breath. He was just about to drift off to sleep when she whispered his name softly.
