"I can hold my own head," Thomas assures, though he doubts she'll listen. He shifts slowly, edging away from the head of the bed and toward the edge. He can, vaguely, figure out the location of the window based off the shift in the light on the floor and across his knees.

His boots touch the floor.

"I wouldn't mind your help getting out of all these clothes," he admits. "I've been wearing it all for almost a day."