After dressing himself, Aleksandr picked up his towel and quietly opened the closet door.  He glanced at Sylvia who was curled into a ball, shivering.  Holding his towel in one hand, he stretched out his other hand.  He didn't like having nightmares, which happened more than often--despite being used to them, he still did not like them.  His hand quivered a bit, considering it was the one he used in the shower.  His hand pressed against her shoulder, nudging her gently, "Sylv?" he narrowed his eyes, concentrating on her.

He suddenly withdrew his hand and took a step away from her, straightening his back.  Maybe he shouldn't try to wake her.  She was tired, after all. He shuttered a bit, glancing away from her. [I]I'm sick,[/I] he told himself. [@Arista]