Christy was curled under his blanket in a tight ball as though he was trying not to take up too much space. Trying not to exist. He had been right about his hair. Guinea gold curls lay about his head and in sleep he looked terribly young. Too young. Lawrence rubbed his chest.
“Mr. Shaw,” he said, and shook his shoulder gently. Christy jumped and jerked awake, sitting up and looking around him.
“Steady,” Lawrence said and put out a hand to touch him on the shoulder. Christy looked down at the hand so he removed it.
“It is time for luncheon. Are you hungry?”
Christy blinked a few times and then yawned hugely and stretched. His torso was naked. Hairless, naked, and creamy gold in the pale light. He scratched his flat belly and then pushed the covers back and swung his legs to the floor. “
