"Maybe," Anders says reluctantly, dragging his teeth slowly over Hawke's earlobe just for the sake of feeling it, but then sighing when he lets it go and presses his face to the side of Hawke's. He just wants to be all over and inside him — not even sexually, just a desire to keep Hawke safe and close. "Grovelling won't make the world any safer." And it won't make Hawke any healthier, because Anders is still worried that there might be lingering side effects beyond the coma.

"What if," he suggests quietly, "We just stay in bed forever." That would be a more than adequate apology, he thinks.