Sophie then looked up.
"Thank you," she said. "For what you did tonight."
Stan looked at her, at the earnestness in her face, the slight tremor in her voice, the lingering redness around her wrist where Damien's hand had been, and felt something move in his chest that he didn't immediately have a word for.
"You don't need to thank me for that."
"I know I don't need to," Sophie said softly. "I just want to thank you."
She didn't let go of his hand.
The ice pack sat between their joined palms, cool and steady, and the apartment was very quiet, and the city hummed its distant, indifferent lullaby beyond the windows, and neither of them spoke for a long, warm, comfortable moment.
'Don't fall in love,' the mantra whispered from somewhere very far away.
