[He doesn't answer; when he pulls away, it's only to shift and turn, bringing his legs up onto the bed, arms around her again, and he lays them both down in the bed, holding her against him. He wants to stay, he wants to go, he wants to don his armor and forgive her. Forgiving a memory is easier; it can't hurt you again. But she is here, alive and breathing, and he can't withhold what will keep her from hurting any longer.
So he doesn't answer aloud, not sure what will come out - but he stays.]
[Spam]
So he doesn't answer aloud, not sure what will come out - but he stays.]