The last thing Harry did before finally giving up on the world for a few hours was clamp one fist around a chunk of Felicity's hair and refuse to let go, even in sleep.
She sat frozen on the edge of the bed, arm gone slightly numb under his weight, not daring to move in case the tiny fierce grip somehow woke him again. For Voss, it had taken forty-five minutes of pacing and humming.
For Felicity, it had taken the walk from the door to the bed. She kept that to herself.
---
"Don't move," Voss said, like she'd been planning to sprint a marathon.
"I wasn't going to."
"You were thinking about it. I can see it in your ears."
