"Lots of thinking always." He plays with a strand of her hair. "It's what I do."

For a few minutes there's only breathing, the soft up-and-down of his chest rising, her body nestled close against him, her long eyelashes brushing against his skin.

Another in his place might take this time to make promises, to make requests. He won't do that, though. This time around, he will be attentive to what Fleur needs. Not at the expense of his own well-being, but he will care for and cherish this woman at his side.

He lets his hand run over her long hair, down her back, over her hip.

Warm.