His head leans heavier on her shoulder with each passing minute. His eyelids feel like they've got lead weights on them. And it's soothing, feeling her fingers play through his hair.

But right, no. This is not manly behaviour. And he could go a fag. A drink too.

In a minute.








His breathing slows, and he's still telling himself 'in a minute'. It's only when he can't physically pry his eyes open any more that he rouses himself, dragging his head up with a sigh.

'Should lie down.'

And yet, not moving. She's got him locked in her, and he has no complaints about that. She does get a kiss though, seeing as she's there.