Somewhere in all of this Lee has shifted, taking him with her, with his forehead resting against her neck and his side pressed to her chest, her arms and legs wrapped around him. She holds him like this sometimes, her whole body enveloping his, protective, though she's skinny and frail.
Her neck and shoulder are damp. Her head turns, forehead rubbing against his, eyelashes brushing against his skin. Her hands run through his hair, pushing his curls out of his face.
"Are you going to be okay?" Her worry is a palpable thing, but Lee would rather he break down than try to hold it in and die slowly.