Ford was careful on his watch that night. He was so tired, but Mia's questioning glance at him just before she laid down in her bedroll was invitation enough for him to disregard his own needs.
Well, not entirely, he told himself. He needed to stay on the safest path, and that meant keeping Mia in good health and well being.
So he sat beside her sleeping form, invisible, gently holding her hand. This odd habit of his, for it truly was a habit now, afforded him ample opportunity to think and observe his surroundings.
And Mia.
He tried not to stare at her. His behavior was already strange enough without adding that into the mix.
Yet, her face invited his inspection. He'd called it perfect before, and he couldn't dispute that assessment now. Long eyelashes fanned out on rosy cheeks. With her brow perfectly smooth in relaxation and her lips ever so slightly parted, she seemed ethereal and untouchable even as he held her hand.
