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Asha feels the slow rise and fall of his chest against her back, and his arm is protectively coiled around her waist. She can't hear his heart beat as so much as she can feel it - a steady thudding - and decides that she misses the sound of it.
She turns slightly, her face now aligned to Chrom's bare torso - he was never the type to sleep with his shirt on, save during winter. She absentmindedly lets her fingers roam, gently forming nondescript patterns across the his chest. Part of her wonders why this feels so surreal. Perhaps, Asha thinks, she really did die during that final confrontation and this is merely her own version of what heaven feels like.
But then….
She presses an ear against the center of his chest. Dub dub. Dub dub.
She cannot deny she hears how much his heart sings seemingly for her only. Or the heat that breathes from every pore burns the tips of her fingers with familiarity and want. Or the closeness of his embrace that threatens to swallow her whole.
She cannot deny that he is alive.
"Asha…is something the matter?"
His voice is husky and laced with the weariness of sleep. He pulls her even closer - so close that the distinction of his heart and hers no longer exists - and presses a kiss just at the top of her hairline. Long calloused fingers thread through the mess of her hair, gently coaxing her back to sleep. Asha closes her eyes, relishing how intimate his touch actually is.
"Nothing really, " she finally replies as she returns the gesture with a kiss right at the center of his chest, "just thinking."
"About?"
"You."