Eyes that were fuzzy from sleep sharpened quickly. Cam noticed the vague haze in her eyes, noticed the relaxed nature of her face and frowned. Something was off, obviously, and Cam felt helpless when it came to figuring out what, figuring out what exactly was off and exactly how to fix it. Usually, he could assess and fix an issue quickly.
But this was Mischa, not a faulty generator.
"I was here." Cam leaned in toward the touch before he realized it. "Waiting." He wasn't even sure of what he was saying but he'd had enough stoned, nonlinear conversations with Marc while he was tripping on acid to know enough about how to follow the threads of such conversation, how to move with them and not bring his conversational partner down or out.
"I'm not going anywhere." Cam said firmly through the confusion, reaching out and tugging the covers up, up and over her shoulders so she had a chance at warming up. "And maybe you trust me because you know that. That I'm not going anywhere. Maybe you trust me because, through all the complications, I'm not going anywhere."
Cam blinked as well, the confusion too muddled within him for him to do much more than attempt to make a stab at normalcy. "Are you still cold? Should I make hot chocolate?"