The most absurd part of everything Drifter’s telling her, these instructions he’s giving her on how to better love herself properly, is that Nick would never have described herself as giving. She used to go out of her way to make it known that she had nothing worth taking, and yet turned around and gave of herself anyway, mostly without realizing it. She’ll need to think long and hard about this revelation, but later, when she’s of a better mind for heavy contemplation.

“Thank you,” she murmurs as she’s pulled to her feet, both for the help up and for Drifter agreeing to stay. “Bed,” is her answer for where she wants to rest, though being picked up and carried there startles a quick laugh out of her.

“I could’ve walked, y’know.” Maybe. Probably, with a shoulder to lean on. Still, she’s not complaining. It’s just an odd feeling, being carried - something that hasn’t happened since she was a small child. Her arms find ways to steady herself by holding onto him; she leans in closer, calmed a small amount by how solid and strong he is, the way he smells, all the ways her senses tell her he’s here - that she isn’t alone.

Once they make it to the bedroom and he’s set her down, Nick moves to one side of the bed, a silent invitation for Drifter to join her, if he’s of a mind to indulge her. There’s no ulterior motive - she’d just greatly appreciate the company.