She'd rather press her face against him. His smile's returned as she crawls up from the base of the bed, debating whether she should leave the shirt on or take it off.

By the time she's reached the pillows--gods, the furs are soft--she's left the fabric be. It rides up as she wiggles her way beneath them, but it doesn't matter much.

Almost instantly, she's frowning at her place between Jon and the wall. "Maybe they knew. They knew much more about us than we'd initially thought. Switch with me? I don't want to be near the wall."

It's too close, she doesn't say, but she thinks he'll understand.