Isabel was lying at the very edge of the bed.
It would be more accurate to say that only a corner of the back of her head rested against the side of Aiwass's thigh, rather than lying on his lap.
It was like leaning her head against the headboard of a bed, almost about to fall off. Moreover, her neck would feel uncomfortable.
It was not because she was shy or felt that there should be a distinction between men and women—it was simply because she was worried about pressing against Aiwass, or her head being too heavy on his leg—after all, she knew that Aiwass usually needed to use a wheelchair, so she was reluctant to lie too comfortably on him.
Instead, she was using her own neck strenuously, trying to maintain a somewhat awkward yet barely balanced posture.
"Doesn't your neck feel uncomfortable?"
Aiwass asked softly, his voice like a whisper in her ear.
