She's been dozing against his chest for who knows how long when she wakes up and feels compelled to get out of bed.

It's hard to ease herself out, and it's not just because they've been so tangled up together for the past few hours that she figures he's bound to notice pretty fast.

Her lips brush against the curve of his shoulder, an unspoken apology for not shaking old habits, and as she lifts the sheet just enough to slide out from under it, she has to admire how the moonlight coming in through window paints him -- stubborn jaw and shaggy hair and all -- with a very subtle glow.

She doesn't escape to the empty bed right away, and she doesn't retrieve her clothes and start putting them on, either.

First she's drawn to the window, and her view between the partially opened curtains treats her to the two small moons in all their nighttime glory.