It doesn't take any sort of heightened senses to tell how much she wants him to stay. The grip she has on his shirt, the way she's being careful not to chase him off, it's more than enough, and it's all unnecessary. He's already made up his mind to stay, for the rest of tonight, and tomorrow night, and every time she's forced by her human nature to rest and risk her nightmares taking hold again. If that isn't what she wants, that's different.

His fingers slide through her hair, a soothing back-and-forth as he presses into the kiss himself, relishing a little the living heat of her, basking in it for as long as he's allowed to have it. And then that gives him pause. Even if there's been no corresponding searing spike in arousal, is that what she wants? He's gone entirely still again, suddenly very aware of her state of undress beneath the thin sheet, likely straight into bed from the shower, and why wouldn't she? There had been no way to predict her nightmares would bring him running like this.

"Don't feel you need to keep yourself awake on my account," he says after a moment, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I think it's for me to say, isn't it? I might find you delightful company, even asleep. It is something of a novelty, after all."