'and here i am wanting something from him again , reaching out to him right in the midst of whatever is happening there , needing him ' but now she was drifting off , in the warm sweet safety of the sunlight pouring through the glass , snuggling into the warm pillows and pulling the patchwork quilt over her , thinking about him , about the dark fleecy hair on the backs of his arms and his hands , about his large eyes again peering at her through the glasses .