She had seen the scars, of course; the original ones and the new scratches from Vlad's nails. She touched one of her own, clawed shoulders as he pulled the blanket up, and then she looked into his blue eyes, which were completely unchanged from just minutes before.
She couldn't remember ever being at a loss for words, not ever in her entire life, but she was now. The only thing that came to mind was empty quotations from Emily Dickinson, and the uncertainty about what to say flashed across her eyes as she looked at him.
"We were awake. Are awake," she said, because it had to be said, didn't it?
She was close enough to reach out and touch him, and her hand hesitated only a little as she tugged on the blanket, wanting to get a better look at the scratches on his chest.