Log Date: 6/5/97, 6/7/97 Log Cast: Paul Nighman, Shenneret Veery Log Intro: Over the last two days on Corellia, Shenner has settled down to watch Paul bury himself in researching the Mandalorian artifacts he has acquired. To her alarm, however, he has practically forgotten to eat - and has definitely forgotten to sleep, staying up all night, and barely stopping to breathe during the day. With reluctance, Shen has left him to his work, trying to convince herself that she does not resent the sudden abrupt shift in his behavior to her, and doing what she can to help him, visiting the library to fetch reference items he needs, and busking on the streets or in the nearby park. Shen has seen other people in that park, but for the most part has kept to herself, her mind preoccupied both by the need to keep tabs on Paul - and her desire to improve her own knowledge, to make herself a better assistant for the Corellian. So in between busking, she studies. On the third day of this, however.... ---------- Day 3: You Call This Archaeology?! He hadn't come to bed; Shenner realizes this the moment she awakens, morning sun in her eyes and the chatter of Paul's printer in her ears. Either he hadn't come to bed... or else he had and she'd just slept right through and he'd gotten up again, she appends after a bemused, groggy moment of consideration. Hoping it was the latter, Shenner lifts her head off the pillow to peer around the room. Her first assessment is true ... he did not come to bed. This doesn't mean, however, that he didn't sleep ... or pass out, it isn't clear which it is. Paul is off in the far corner of the room, out of the light straying in from the windows, collapsed over the table where his computer sits. The screen at first looks dark, but upon closer inspection, it is only dimmed way down. Paul is holding his glasses in one hand, which is sprawled across the desk. The other is folded under his head, which is tilted toward the left, facing the door. His face is begining to sport more than just his traditional five o'clock shadow, but is actually covered with a fair amount of determined stubble. His clothes are rumpled and messed, his shirt unbuttoned all the way down and pulled out of his pants. Somehow this all just makes him look rakish. Shenner blinks, twice, feeling a small pang within her chest. She slips out from under the blankets on the bed, and pads carefully over to Paul, touching his shoulder. "Paul? Hey, pal? Paul?" His body riddled with caffeine, Paul jerks violently at her touch, sensitive to anything other than the white noise of the printer printing. He grabs at the desk in order to keep his balance, even though he is in no danger of falling. He looks at Shenner blearily and then casts a glance down at his chrono, "What time is it?" he mutters, turning around to face Shenner, the rest of the room, and the welcoming morning sunlight. "After ten hundred," Shenner answers, glancing to the desk chrono unit on the other side of the bed. "You looked awful uncomfortable, didn't mean to wake yah... you wanna lay down or get some breakfast or somethin'?" Rising from the chair, Paul takes several steps forward, into the light, and then stops dead, a very strange look coming across his face - a mix of curiousity and distress. He blinks hard several times and then rubs his eyes, staring sightlessly now before him. He doesn't answer Shenner's question, just says softly, carefully. "Shen? Close the blinds, willya?" His jaw clenches unconsciously. The girl blinks, her brow furrowing. "Sure," she says, equally slowly, moving to the window to do as Paul asks. But she peers back at him as she does so, anxiously. "What's wrong?" "I can't see," he replies in an eerily calm voice as the shades are lowered one by one. He continues to blink rapidly. "Are they all closed yet?" he asks, only the thinnest thread of concern winding its way through his tone. _Can't SEE?!_ Aghast, Shenner closes the last of the blinds, waiting a moment while her vision adjusts to the darkness. Then she blurts, "Yeah... they're closed... you... can't SEE?" Paul merely nods, but as the last bit of light is cut off, dropping the room into relative darkness, he blinks again and sighs. "Okay, I'll be alright in a minute," he murmurs soothingly to Shen and he carefully begins to feelfumble his way to the bed to sit down. Shen practically teleports back to the bed herself, preventing herself from wrapping her arms around Paul only with a titanic effort. "Wh-whaddya mean you can't see?" she asks then, dismayed. "Eyes just don't stop workin'...!" "Relax Shen, it's okay, really. My eyes are almost back to normal now." He turns to look at her, and his eyes do indeed focus on her face. "You ever have flash spots appear before you're eyes ... like when someone takes a flash photopic of you? "Uhm... I, uh, kinda got blinded by lookin' at lightning once... on Etti IV," the girl says dubiously. She sounds a little mollified, but she goes on, "Paul... I don't think you oughtta do work this mornin, if you're hurtin' your eyes..." Paul shakes his head reassuringly, "I'm fine so long as it isn't bright ... I probably just need to eat something," he adds thoughtfully. "What seems to be happening is that bright lights are causing that flash like experience ... except instead of just one or two dots, my entire vision becomes filled with them until I can't see anything ... " he then peers back at Shen, realizing that that wasn't the most reassuring thing to say. "But I'm fine so long as I stay out of the light." Shenner asks anxiously, "How long were you up?" She doesn't _say_ 'You didn't come to bed', but the thought is clearly underlying her words. Shrugging, Paul leans back on his hands. "Dunno ... most of the night I guess," he admits grudgingly. "Look... Paul... I'll go getcha some breakfast if you lay down and take a nap, okay?" Sitting up, Paul stares at the computer longingly for a second and then looks back to Shen. "But I'm wide awake," he protests earnestly, giving Shenner a very boyish and innocent look. Shenner swallows. _Does he have to look at me like THAT?_ she whimpers to herself, wrestling with another urge to cradle him in her arms. As stoically as she can manage, she maintains, "Please, Paul? Get some shut-eye -- an hour. Just lay down, okay?" She can't resist lifting her hands to his shoulders, as she looks entreatingly into his face. "I promise I'll wake yah up." His eyes cast along the bed and then back to Shen. "Okay, I'll lie down if you want to go get some breakfast and bring it up, or whatever," he concedes, but he makes no assurances of actually sleeping. Apparently that's all the girl needs to hear for now. She smiles lopsidedly, and leans forward to give Paul a small hug. "I'll do that, right now, pal," she promises, and indeed, she does move off promptly to get dressed and washed up. Paul settles himself on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as Shen putters about the room, finally closing his eyes and focusing on relaxing. However, despite the fact that he is exhausted, his body's internal clock is informing him, quite vehemently, that it is morning, and he should be awake. For Shen's sake, however, he keeps his eyes closed, waiting for her to leave. The noise of the door heralds her exit -- and out in the hallway, Shenner bites her lip as she heads down to the kitchen to see what she can get for food to bring up. _Is he gonna go through ANOTHER day of this?_ she asks herself plaintively, worried. She knows Paul is ardent about his work, but this... _this ain't normal...._ As the door shuts closed, Paul opens one eye and then the other. While he agreed to lie down, he didn't say anything about sleeping ... or even resting. He sits up for a moment, frowning as his eyes lose focus for a moment and his head spins briefly. Then, everything is fine and he shrugs it off as a momentary lapse. Moving to the edge of the bed, he picks up a few papers from the floor and brings them back onto the bed with him, lying on one side and reading them while he waits and "rests". Although it is hard to read in the dim light, it's certainly better than the alternative that would invariably leave him blinded. It takes perhaps twenty minutes before Shenner returns; the girl's arrival brings a brief wash of light into the room along with her, and the smell of hot food, eggs and fried nerf. And coffee. Looking up from the papers before him, Paul sniffs appreciatively, his hunger returning to him with a sharp and desperate edge. The bright light brings the now familiar spots before his eyes - first purple, then blue, then green, they start to cloud his vision, until the door is shut and the light blocked out. "Gods, that smells incredible," he murmurs ravenously, blinking slightly in reaction to the light, his nose actively sniffing the air in reaction to the food. Hearing Paul's voice, Shenner pauses momentarily, and frowns. _Dammit, Paul, you're supposed to be asleep!_ With an effort, though, she bites back the urge to scold him, and instead brings the tray she bears to the bed. On it are a couple of disposable food boxes, as well as a coffee pot. Marginally comforted by his response to the smell of the stuff, she smiles weakly and offers it to him. "Here, pal... breakfast." He actually removes the papers, tossing them across the bed and out of the way. He settles himself against the backboard, folding his legs in front himself. He takes the proffered tray, setting it on the bed before him. He then looks up into Shenner's eyes and gives her a sweet, shy smile. "Joining me?" he asks curiously, with a hint of hopefulness and an edge of sheepishness. His eyes are large and dark, his pupils dilated in the protective darkness of the room. Shenner feels a sudden melting warmth right behind her breastbone, at _that_ look. Huskily, she points out, "I brought enough for two..." Paul drops his gaze then to the food, noting the vast quantity of it and realizing that he his probably hungry enough to eat all of it himself. He glances back up to Shen and gives her a subtle wink, his working mind losing ground steadily. "So you did," he replies in a voice still low and richly growlly from the long night. He picks up a fork and offers it to her in a simple gesture of courtesy, shaded with hues of gratitude. That melting warmth in her chest expands out a little, as Shenner thinks in a rush, _This means he's gonna take it easy today, right?_ She flashes a smile to her friend as she takes the fork and murmurs thanks; then, unaware of how her eyes have started to shine, she clambers up beside him on the bed to help him dig into the food. Despite his hunger, Paul eats tidily, if quickly. As the nerf steak touches his tongue, he suddenly wonders when the last time he had tasted anything quite as delicious. The days without any real food have left his tastebuds eager for something to do. They take on this task with relish, reporting to his brain that everything is fresh, hot, and uncommonly delicious, even though it is no better than his average fare. After he finishes, his body begins to transmit perceptions about how soft the bed is, how silky sleek the sheets feel beneath his hand, how wonderously fluffy the pillows look. His academic mind rallies one last battle cry and charges forth as his eyes, scanning the blankets with a desirous gaze, happen upon the papers that he tossed aside. His brows wing downward and he frowns at the documents lying there, demanding his attention. The battle is on! "So," comes Shenner's voice, promptingly, "I think you oughtta take a break today, yah know, Paul? Give your eyes a rest, if they're botherin' yah. Whaddya say? Shenner, encouraged by Paul readily eating his share of the food, watches the archaeologist while she finishes off her own, and mentally urges him, _A break. You want a break. You want a break. You want a break. You want a break..._ Paul lifts his gaze to Shenner's thoughtfully, cocking his head to one side. "I have a lot of work to do," his academic side voices, getting in the first strike. "I took a break to lie here and eat," it rationalizes in his voice. Unfortunately his body is reacting purely on sensation, and can only send messages to his mind, urging him to try lying down and test the softness of the sheets on his bare torso, to see just -how- fluffy that pillow is ... will one suffice, or will two be required for pure satisfaction? However, his nerve endings don't seem to have a link to his lips, and these observations go unvocalized. "Well, it looks to me, pal," says Shen practically, "that half an hour ain't exactly time enough for you to recharge your power cells, yah know?" Setting the tray aside, she leans over closer to Paul and peers at him. "You didn't want me playin' the guitar for a whole week after I screwed up my hands playin' for eight hours... doncha think you owe your brain and your eyes the same rest?" She lifts a hand to his forehead, stroking his hair back for a moment, shyly. "I ain't sayin' you shouldn't work, just, well, you'll work better if you get in some good sleep, see?" Staring at her hard, his academic mind finds that the firm ground it was standing on has turned to mud, and begins to flounder, losing its footing. However, the pain of the loss is evident in his eyes, as they take on a slightly distressed and frustrated glimmer, as he perceives that he is losing his edge. Internally, the part of him that is and will always be his father frowns in disappointment. "You lack commitment, willpower, drive. You're weak, You're nothing" it condemns him. Her touch on her forehead renews the flagging spirits of his body, they spark to the brief grace of her fingertips. They rally once more, insisting loudly that it is perfect reasonable to rest, that the human body requires it, and that there is absolutely no shame in a nap. The only sign of his internal struggle is a deep sigh. He aquiesces to Shen's request and his body's demand, and reaching up, he shrugs his shirt completely off of his shoulders, drawing the sleeves off of his arms. Relief washes through Shenner, and she pulls back a bit to let Paul take that shirt off. Her breath catches a bit in her throat at the sight of his bare shoulders, and she has to steady herself before she promises, "I won't letcha sleep any more than a few hours, okay? I'll be right here...." Balling up the shirt, Paul pitches it across the bed to land on his bags. Turning back to Shen, he nods, frowning slightly. "What are you going to do?" he asks curiously, not certain he is comfortable with her actively watching him sleep, and not wanting her to feel that she is trapped in here with him. "My turn to study," the girl replies brightly, even as she pushes gently at Paul to get him to lie back. "I got some lesson discs from the library when I went for you. Lie down, okay?" Her steady pressure against his chest encourages Paul to lean backward, sliding down the bed slowly until his head is resting on the pillow. He rolls over and gathers the blanket, just covering himself to the waist, enjoying the cool sensation of the sheets and the breezes blowing in from the covered but opened windows. "What are you studying?" he questions her yet again. He gathers up a second pillow and turns over onto his stomach, stuffing the pillows beneath his head, but turning to face in her direction, looking at her sideways from his prone position. Shenner gets up, padding to her belongings, and fetches her datapad and a couple of datacards to feed into it. "Math and astronomy, for starters," she answers, returning to the bed. But she sets the objects down nearby and focuses instead on Paul, sitting beside him, lifting a hand to rub her fingertips lightly along his temple. "I figure if I wanna really know how to fly a ship I gotta know that stuff, right? 'Cause stars are always movin' around and you gotta know where you're flyin' to." Her voice softens. "Go to sleep." Paul's eyes flutter shut obligingly at her words, partially to be obedient, and partially in reaction to her cool feathery touch. "Yeah," he mumbles despite her command. "You definitely need math skills, and although the computer does the nuts and bolts of the navigation, it's always good to have a strong background in astronomy .... never know when you're instruments might go out and you'll be stuck flying by the seat of your pants." He cracks one eye open. "Also good to know all of the things that are out there other than planets and stars ... especially the moving ones like comets and asteroids," he adds in a softly warning tone, before the eye shuts again. "Astronavigation," he mutters, a little weaker now, as weariness begins to switch off sections of his brain, re-routing his power. "Don't forget astronavigation ...." Shenner's fingertips keep up their slow, small traced circles along Paul's temple, and she promises firmly, "I'll get to that when I can handle algebra." She sounds sheepishly amused. "Momma taught me basic stuff but I didn't get too far past that. Sleep now." All her words are very soft. The last words that Paul is able to catch is something about algebra and her mother ... the delicate patterns of her fingers are his undoing, and sleep envelops his brain in a warm and comforting blanket of darkness. [And after a while...] An hour into the algebra lesson disc, Shenner finds herself rather disgruntled at math in general and algebra in particular. _Why the _kark_,_, she asks herself as she glares at the little screen of her datapad, _did somebody think it was a _good_ idea to make math problems you gotta juggle numbers _and_ letters in?_ Still sitting with her back against the backboard of the bed, her miniature computer propped up against one thigh, Shenner pokes slowly at its keys and finds herself half-wishing she could somehow tap into the Force and order the answer to her current problem to reveal itself. The still form beside her moves slightly, his face frowning imperceptibly. He shifts fractionally closer to her with a soft strangled sort of noise emitting from his throat. As quiet as the room has been around her -- Paul's printer had ceased its chattering before she'd brought both their breakfasts up from the kitchen -- that tiny noise from her Corellian companion is enough to make Shenner glance sideways. She pauses a moment, considering; she'd promised to wake him up after a few hours, but did this mean he was waking up now? The frown deepens and he turns slightly onto his side, only to shift back, this time closer to Shen, his arm drawing over her, dropping across her pelvis, just below her computer. His dreaming mind registering her form, his arm tightens about her hips slightly, and with a soft murmur, he draws himself closer, his head finding her stomach, his face nuzzling against her, just below her breasts. Another helpless almost whimpering sound escapes his throat. X^2 + 3x + 39 = 15. Shenner glares at this equation, trying to fathom whether she can even come up with a value for X, when Paul's motions suddenly bring him a lot closer to her than he had been a few moments ago. Instinctively, she lifts the datapad clear of him lest he jar it, and she swallows as she tries to figure out what to do next. After a moment, still holding the datapad in one hand, she lifts the other to the top of Paul's head and rubs it softly. "Shh," she murmurs down at him. His face burrows against her, his right hand moving along her side, from her hip, along her stomach, to stop at the side of her left breast, which it unconsciously cups the side of. At the touch of her hand he releases a soft breath, drawing the rest of his body firmly against her, his right leg wrapping over hers, claiming her as his own personal body pillow. Uhm. Shenner swallows again, hard, as Paul presses himself against her side. She stays frozen, giving him a moment, hoping he will settle down again. _I can handle this, if he just stays quiet, it's okay... he's asleep..._ Content for the moment, Paul seems to settle into a more peaceful sleep. He releases a soft murmur of contentment, pressing his lips along her ribcage. Quite the fascinating view of the tousled top of Paul's head. And his bare shoulders -- and the rest of his bare torso, too. His contact sends a little ripple of sensation coursing briefly but undeniably through her, out from that point on her ribs, and it takes Shenner an instant of sucking in a breath before she can return to her datapad. Right. X^2 + 3x + 39 = 15. Take the fifteen and subtract it from both sides... The tousled head arches slightly, shifting in order to press himself closer to her inviting figure. His head rests between her breasts now, nestling comfortably there while his right hand settles itself over her right breast with a caressing stroke upward. A soft growl, like velvet clad thunder, purrs from his chest. _X squared... plus.... 3 times X... uhmm...._ Finding that Paul's now rather effectively hindering her view of her datapad, Shenner tries to move it, only to discover that this essentially leaves her with her arms around the still-sleeping man as she tries to work around him. _Plus... twenty-four... ack..._ His lips nuzzle at the break of her shirt, reaching upward toward the pulse at the base of her throat, brushing there. His leg wraps about both of hers, effectively trapping them beneath his thigh. As his head has been traveling up along her sternum, his torso straightens, lengthens, pressing along her side. He may be asleep, but the fact that there is a female form practically beneath him has penetrated some layer of consciousness. His right hand cups her breast, caressing it absently. He growls again, and this time there is a possessive, predatory edge to it. Shenner's breath stops for a moment or two, even as her heart speeds up. Whatever value X is supposed to have suddenly seems like a rather more distant concern... but conscience prickles at her mind. _He's asleep_, she thinks wildly, _is this okay if he's asleep?_ Would it be okay if he were awake? On the other hand, would he be _doing_ it if he were awake? Her mind churns back and forth for a moment, till at last Shenner blurts out huskily, "Paul?" The sense of unreality is very strong ... the dreaming state powerful and convincing. Although his consciousness is becoming more and more aware, the physical sensations, and the simple fact that his mind and body are exhausted hinder Paul from being able to separate which sensations are real ones and which are dream induced. He hears his name, but his response is not a coherent one. It mostly consists of a rumbling purr emanating from his chest as he drags her against him, kissing her neck almost hungrily as the scent of her flesh makes a connection to his senses. _Ohmigods_... Not sure whether she is exhilirated, alarmed, or both, Shenner fumbles to lay the datapad aside and out of the way, and once that's accomplished, the girl struggles with what to do next. "Paul..." A little louder, now. Shen tries to push him as gently as she can manage back onto the bed and off of her, curling an arm around his neck to support him. "Paul, wake up." At the more insistent use of his name, his eyes flutter open, disoriented. He stares up at Shen, their positions having shifted somewhat at her attempt to press him away. However, the fractional amount of sleep that he has managed to get is insufficient, and even more problematic than not sleeping at all. His sense of reality is virtually non-existent, and while the logical part of his mind informs him that it must be time for him to get up and get back to work, the part of him dreaming insists that he was in the middle of making love. Logic argues that he isn't supposed to have sex with Shen, but his body and dream memory argue that their relative positions support their assertions. His right hand presses against her breast possessively, while his left hand strokes along her body to bury itself in her hair, bringing her lips down to meet his. Encircling Paul with her arms, Shenner starts quivering -- she can't help it. Nor can she resist letting herself brush her lips against Paul's own, at least for a moment. But she lifts her face again and murmurs into his ear, "Paul, please... can you hear me?" "Mmmm-hmmmm?" he rumbles in response, his lips toying with the edge of her jawline when she denies him her lips. "Paul..." Her voice turns a trifle hoarse, and she has to wet her lips to continue, "Paul, you... need to either wake up, or go back to sleep..." Unconsciously trying to soothe him, she runs her hand through his hair. Her statement makes no sense to him ... he is awake ... isn't he? His right hand releases her breast to glide up, his left joining it to capture her face above his own. "I -am- awake," he murmurs, rather like a petulant child, his eyes frowning in innocent thoughtfulness, as he tries to convince himself as well as her. But what if he isn't ... what if this is a dream? And if it is, then it's okay to kiss her, right? But if it isn't, does that mean that it -isn't- alright? He peers up at her uncertainly, his perception widening sufficiently to make him doubt that very perception. "Aren't I?" He's talking to her, Shen realizes, and looking at her, but that glaze to his eyes and that slightly too-high, dreaming tone to his voice tells the girl that he's not quite fully aware. Studying his face, she feels her already accelerated heartbeat skip erratically, and she can't resist another urge to brush his hair back from his brow. "D'you... know where... we're at?" That's an easy one, and one hand releases her face to capture the hand that she is trailing through his hair, placing a seductive kiss into the center of her palm, the sexy smile at odds with the innocently boyish expression. "In bed," he purrs at her teasingly. Her cheeks flush vividly rose -- well, _that_ makes him sound like he's awake. "You were... takin' a nap, and I was studyin' math..." she whispers. That throws him off, not agreeing with his concept of what has been going on. His hands stop moving over her face and palm, which he's been caressing enticingly with the pad of his thumb. "Math?" Shen nods softly, barely daring to breathe. Paul just lies there placidly, his body highly aware of the fact that they are pressed together close, her hands around him, his around her. But something is definitely wrong. Part of him knows that this is not the game plan, although he can't for the life of him recall -why- not. Physically, his body urges him to ignore the few small discrepancies as being irrelevant, but a niggling sense of conscience refuses to allow that particular course of action. Torn and confused, and desperately desperately tired and needy, Paul unwittingly gives Shenner a helpless soulful look, trying to discern from her actions, from her response, what he should do. "Shen ...?" Her entire chest seems to tighten up at the sight of the expression that crosses Paul's face; that, more than anything else, signals his exhaustion to her. _No way he'd look at me like that if he had a hold of himself,_ she thinks, and the idea that he should look to _her_ for help when like this brings a lump to her throat. "You need to sleep some more, Paul," she tenderly informs him, gathering him into her arms. Allowing himself to be gathered, pliant in her grasp, Paul waits, uncertainly for where she will urge him to. In a total non-sequitor, he whispers huskily, "I wrote you a song ...." and then blinks, uncertain why he would admit his secret. Too late now to take it back, he realizes muzzily. Intending to simply hold Paul and stroke his hair until he falls asleep again, Shenner is caught by surprise, and for an instant, she is struck dumb. Then, blinking sudden brief moisture out of her eyes, she murmurs, "You did?" "Yeah," he murmurs almost shyly. "Not done yet, well, not perfect yet," he adds, his voice deep and growly with his embarassment and exhaustion. Shen cradles Paul's head on her arm, leaving her other hand free to touch his face and his hair, and she does so now, gently stroking. "Wh..." That comes out of her in a barely audible whisper -- and it doesn't surprise her, with that lump in her throat. She swallows and tries again, "Whenever it's ready... you can play it for me... if you want..." His eyes closing, Paul takes a deep breath and starts to sing, very softly, a capella, his voice rising to its usual light tenor, made endearingly rough by his exhaustion ... It's in this moment, Hold on ... When everything has come apart. It's in this moment, Right now ... When it can come together. Raise your sights, What's there to lose? Fall in the light, Fall in the light, Fall in the light .... The song is gently and slow, with a pattern like the rising and falling of waves against a shoreline. Transfixed, Shenner holds her hand still just behind Paul's ear as he murmurs out those words. Her vision tears over again, and, hastily, she blinks, lest he open his eyes once more and see her crying. _He loves me,_ her heart blurts out all at once, before her mind has time to realize what her heart is announcing. A fraction of a second after that, though, her mind jumps in with, _But he TOLD me that, before, that he loves me, just not that he's 'in love' with me..._ Still threatening to swell out past the confines of her ribs, Shen's heart rallies back, _What difference does it make what words he was usin'?_ Her mind: _You're a bard, kid, or at least you wanna be, words are important, remember?_ And her heart: _Then listen to those words he's singing you!_ His words do speak, perhaps volumes. This song has been coming to him over a long period of weeks ... ever since their voyage together on the Black Dragon. It encompasses his thoughts, his hopes, his frustrations, sorrows, and dreams in regard to Shenner. It's a song that keeps re-writing itself in his mind insistently. Oblivious to her thoughts and fears, Paul lets the words flow freely, words he had never ever intended to share with her. In all this trouble, Hold on ... To innocence with which you were born. Through so much struggle, Be strong ... Find the faith you need to carry on. It's a long night, You're not alone. Fall in the light, Fall in the light, Fall in the light ... Sweet how it falls into place, Sun through the haze. Doesn't it feel a little like grace? It's in this moment, Hold on ... When everything has come apart. It's in this moment, Right now ... When everything come together. Raise your soul, What's there to lose? Fall in the light, Fall in the light Fall in the light .... Her mind reels with implications and connotations... and feelings of her own. At last, in the next fraction of a second as Paul reaches that last verse, she firmly silences her internal babble. Half-afraid that he is still dreaming... and that he'll wake up at any second and discover he's singing to entirely the wrong person if she says anything... Shenner is torn as to how to respond; yet, she can't help but make an answer. She waits for Paul to finish, then tightens her arms around him and presses a kiss to his forehead. At her kiss, his eyes flutter open again, staring up at Shen uncertainly, uncomfortable to an extent with the implications and messages contained within the song. "There's guitar too ...." he mumbles, not sure what more there is to be said, but feeling surprisingly vulnerable and nervous, as he is now more awake and more aware of his surroundings and what has been going on. He silently curses his sleep addled mind for betraying him this way. Shen offers no response to the lyrics, at least not one in words, but her expression brims full enough with wordless replies. Her mouth curves in a small, shy smile, and she whispers, "Play it... when you're not so tired, maybe?" Uncertain what her brimming eyes and expansive expression is -really- trying to tell him, Paul mutely nods, letting his eyes drift shut once again. There is a niggling fear, growing stronger by the moment, that too much has passed between them, that she has a mistaken impression of what has occured just now. The thought of asking her, probing her thoughts is even more frightening than just dealing with the potential consequences of his mistake later. He frowns marginally, his mind already dropping him back into a somewhat uneasy slumber. [End log.]