The sleeping person did not respond.
His head shifted slightly with the angle, starting to slide, and Sylvia's hands moved before she'd decided to move them one coming up to support his cheek, the other steadying his shoulder, catching him before he could slip completely, the whole thing happening on pure reflex before her brain had finished processing the situation she was now in.
The situation she was now in was: Lucas asleep with his head in her lap, her hands holding him in place, the campfire crackling in front of them, and the fact that her face was doing something she had absolutely no control over.
She sat there for several long seconds.
The fire crackled. The island breathed around them. From inside the shelter came the sounds of three people sleeping, which meant there was nobody awake to see this, which was the only good thing about the current situation.
She looked down at him again.
