Lee shakes her head. Leave now? Things are just getting started. As much as she wants more than anything to crawl back to — her head is confused, she's not sure what 'home' means, her parents' house? The Chelsea? — Michael's apartment, which is quiet and safe and dry and has things like hot water on tap and food, she can't. She just can't. Guilt probably.
Speaking of, though, her hand seeks out Michael's, the one that's not otherwise occupied. Her fingers lace around his. She's blowing the smoke away from him.
“You're hurt.” Is that a question or a statement? It's easier to focus on something external.