Freya sighs deeply into her girlfriend's shoulder, melting against the smaller woman a little. She shifts a little, the hand around Pen's waist splaying against her back, holder her a tad closer. No idle patterns, no stroking, just... touching, seeking more contact with that wonderful girl.

"I thought you said no monsters," Freya mumbles, and there's the littlest trace of dry humor to it among that resignation and fatigue.

She didn't doubt that Pen would fight anything for her in the least; she's seen how fierce and stubborn her partner could be. But... she couldn't protect Freya from the shadows of the experience, the ones her mind kept anxiously and uncharacteristically fixating on.