[ He let out a breath, shoulders slumping, and he let the silence stretch a little too long, as he looked back at their hands. ]

I don't know, Gunny. [ He said finally. Quietly. Miserably. ] I know I should feel a hell of a lot guiltier than I am. But I never--

[ He cut off, closing his eyes, letting out a hard breath. Then he squeezed his hand. ]

Maybe we should... talk about this after either one of us had had even an hour's sleep over three days. Because I know there were a whole host of reasons I told myself not to, and I'm having a hard time thinkin' of any of them.