Turning her head toward his hand, Meredith tightens her grip on the sheets, that slow tension building steadily. She wants to see him, but her eyes are closed anyway, to touch him though she wouldn't have him stop for anything. Her breathing shallow, uneven, she couldn't ask for either if she tried, coming up with nothing more than his name now and again. There's nothing else that really needs saying when she can barely bring herself to bother thinking anyway.