He can't even trust himself to move when she turns around, for fear of doing something she doesn't want, or isn't ready for yet. He stays still, holding his breath, until she's settled comfortably against his chest. He can still faintly smell the ointment on her bruised back, but that's the only element of reality that's still filtering through.

He feels like they're in a bubble right now, and it's so pleasant to just be with someone like this. He puts one hand on her shoulder, the other on top of her head, and holds her like that-- and lets himself be held like that. After a few seconds of silent comfort, he shifts to press his lips against her temple, just the once.