He's definitely perfect at aligning words.
There was this glass window, on that white interior wall, that held both of their stares while she leaned head onto his shoulder, whose lowering was initiated by him only.
They said nothing for the rest of the night. And the silence was understood. They left the communication part to their breaths. It was more like inhaling love and exhaling gratitude for the presence.
She felt asleep in the leaning posture, as it grew darker and her eyes sensed comfort. So while he was still awake, she was cradled off onto the floor while he sat cuddling just behind her.
One of the palm gripped the others being little far to the chest, having her occupying the middle.
He was comforted, and so was she.
That night it literally bucketed down every ounce the sky could. Like he said, maybe the scar was deep enough to control glassy bleeds for the whole night. But when it did, one could feel the golden rays directly on the face.
She, on perceiving that warmness at her eyes, woke up. And saw his hands, who have been around her for the whole night, still were. But just him, who was sleeping withal, was hugged back tighter there. He woke up partially with slightly squeezed eyes and made her feel the safest arms again with a palm on her cheek and other on her back. This made her wanting to bury her face onto his shoulder and she did.
"Goodmorning love" she said.
"Morning!" him in his sleepy voice.