[ Gratitude is so very foreign. He just-- sinks back against against the futon, his hand in hers, and holds on. He feels like an anchor somehow, and can't say why. Will Tosh blow away in a strong wind? Of course not. ]

[ Doesn't matter. ]

[ Unaware of her thoughts (for the best really) he settles quietly, and lets her weight and warmth weigh him down and give him something else to think about for a while. ]

He'll forgive you, right? He'll know that it was the bad hotel and not you. And you can help him graduate if that's what he really wants and if it isn't, well...

[ Sorry, he can't help there. ]

He'll find something else to keep himself happy here, right?