He nods tiredly, and even drags up a tiny smile at the kiss on his forehead. When she's gone, he pulls his boots off, wincing at the effort of trying not to bend his injured knee. At least it distracts him from thinking about what he'll say when she gets back.

It's so bloody cold. Colder than it should be, surely? He summons enough energy to get up and get a fleece jumper from the wardrobe. She'll find him sunk into it when she comes back, back on the sofa with his arms wrapped around his middle and chin down to his chest.