"Course I will." Sweeney murmurs the words into her hair before kisses it. He doesn't want to be anywhere else. Big bed, big sky, and her pressed against him. His hand shifts so he can trace his fingertips along the back of her shirt-covered arm.

"Seems a pity ta have ya swimmin' in this thing all by yerself," he teases.

A few seconds later, and he squirms a touch, nestling a cigarette between his lips and digging for his lighter before executing the precarious lighting with one-handed grace. He sets the lighter on the nightstand and pulls a deep drag. Holding it, he offers her the cigarette.