He knelt to untie her boots because she had asked him to, and then because he wanted to. She was still wearing her coat from the cold. He took one boot off, set it neatly beside the chair, and did the other one. Then he rested his forehead against her knee and didn't move for a moment. It was not a position that required anything of her. It was not a prelude to anything. It was the thing he was doing right now. She ran her fingers through the back of his hair and he stayed there, breathing, content to be useful in this small specific way.
