Then Ileana moved closer to him and put her head against his shoulder and her arm across his chest and stayed there, and he put his arm around her and the room was quiet and warm and entirely sufficient.
"Tell me something small." She said. "Something that happened today that was not important."
He thought about it.
"Rin looked at Leon at dinner." He said. "Three times. She was very careful about it."
Ileana made a sound against his shoulder that was amusement in its purest and most uncomplicated form.
"I noticed that too." She said. "What did Leon do."
"Ate his food." He said.
She made the sound again, fuller this time.
They talked about small things for a while, the comfortable kind of conversation that did not require anything from either of them, and eventually her responses slowed and her breathing deepened and her arm relaxed its weight across his chest in the way that happened when sleep arrived without her deciding to go to it.
