She turned back, surprised to find him looking up at her, his eyes open and a little clearer than before. He was still obviously drunk, but there was a sincerity in his gaze that made her pause. His grip on her wrist wasn't strong, but it was firm enough to hold her in place.
"I'm not going anywhere," Ellen said gently, her voice calm as she leaned in slightly. "But I just need to get you some water… and a towel to help you clean up a bit."
Mason shook his head slowly, his hand tugging at hers. "No," he muttered, his words slurred from exhaustion and alcohol. "Don't need that. Just… stay."
Ellen hesitated, caught between wanting to help, and the strong appeal of his interesting request. It wasn't often—if ever—that he asked for her to simply be there. His hand was warm against hers, his fingers curled around her wrist in a way that made it clear he didn't want her to leave, not even for a moment.
