Jonathan Sims

"Y-yeah," he murmurs, looking away again, unable to hold that soft gaze, to face it directly. But he lets a little smile show as he says, "Yeah, I'm all right."

He lets the moment breathe a moment longer before he finally stretches and starts to extricate himself gingerly, pushing himself up into a sit. "I... I'm glad you stayed," he admits, feeling his face flush hot. "I think it helped." He hesitates, breath drawn like he intends to say more. He feels he should apologize, but for what? John was clearly comfortable, and had the power both to leave and to ask Martin to sleep elsewhere. This was business as usual for him.

"I—" He stammers a bit, nervously working his way toward what he wants to say. "I think you shouldn't... sleep on the couch." He clears his throat and reaches up to rub anxiously at the back of his neck. "If this was more comfortable, y-you should... I mean, it's your bed."