Even with the way Lee puts it, saying of course like it's something that should speak for itself, his answer still comes as something of a surprise, and Molly doesn't entirely know why. He left last night, sure, but he's been here since the morning, even after having had every opportunity to leave again if he wanted to. She walked away earlier, but she'd been hurt, unable to just move on as easily as that. Still, it couldn't have helped matters any. This whole thing, it seems, is a fucking mess, and she's not sure how to change that, when the situation they're in isn't something that will just go away.

Not staying away now might be a start, though. She remains visibly a little cautious as she crosses the room, but takes a seat on the couch beside him, tucked under the blanket. Already it's tempting just to lean into him, but she doesn't know where the lines are or aren't between them now, and doesn't want to cross one. He'd reached for her hand this morning, though, and she does the same now, fingers curling around his. It's something.

"Thanks," she says, though it occurs to her that she shouldn't need to thank her own fucking boyfriend for letting her sit next to him. "I'm glad I didn't wake you up."