[the immediate exhale of all that tension startles her a bit, and she does a bit of a double-take when he flops backward, blinking owlishly.

...of course he's tired. thank goodness that nonsense argument was cut right at the knees...

she sighs, shifting so she can get up and set the notes on the nightstand. from there she climbs back onto the bed (this one is distinctly larger and honestly? way better than what had come before), scooting in to settle partly on top of him.]

Oh, I'm petrified. This is outlandishly different than before, isn't it? We've no precedent outside of...I don't know...intuition.