A fond look and a morning kiss is more than enough to make Caleb's heart skip a beat or two, pleased by the attention after a long day where Yussa was, as he says, not in his right mind.

"Your mind is beautiful," he says, soft and genuine. "While it can be fun to let go of for a bit, it should be your choice to do so." With sympathy, he adds, "It must have been...frustrating." At best, he would assume. Possibly terrifying at worst. But he isn't going to put words like that in Yussa's mouth.

The arrival of breakfast is nicely timed, as it prevents him from further embarrassing himself. Instead he watches Yussa stretch, simply admiring his body in the sun's warm light without intent. He'd like to kiss him, but refrains. His friend has had enough of that, surely. He'll let him decide what sort of physical affection he'd like to maintain.

Just as he'd done yesterday, Caleb rises from the bed, still bare, and retrieves the tray from the table so that Yussa doesn't have to get up. He sets it on top of the coverlet when he returns, sitting near the edge of the bed.

"As for the bath," he says, still with some lingering amusement at Wensforth's blatant refusal, "if you direct me to the tub, I can draw it."