[It's bitter-sweet, and he's too much of a realist to try to convince her of anything other than the naked truth: right now, this is completely out of their hands. He could be gone by morning, or she could disappear a week from now. There are no promises to be made here, no guarantees to be found. Nothing to do, not yet.
And she knows that. They both do, and that makes intention the only important thing.
He tilts his head into her touch, out of words for once. They've both lost important people, both recently and in the past and by now he's figured out a thing or two about how to deal with loss. You can't shut yourself away. Not completely, you have to allow yourself to hold on to the people that are left and the fact that she's here, in the middle of the night... that means she knows it too. She needs him, now more than ever, and for once he feels absolutely prepared to fulfill that need.
Gently, he closes what little distance there is left between them, catching her lips in a soft kiss.]