[ His memory of the last time she touched him like this seems long ago. It'd been different, at the portals. Laced with desperation and want and fear underneath. There's no desperation here, just...a strange calm. If he didn't know better, he might've convinced himself he were dreaming. Maybe that's why he doesn't move, equally afraid to disturb the fragile thread that's spun between them. This thing that's finally caught him, made him stop resisting after he's spent the entire damn time trying to avoid being exactly where he is now.
He is not content. But it's the closest he's allowed himself to get in a long while. (It will be, as it always has, his biggest mistake.)
He blinks at her, drawn out of his thoughts by her question. He thinks he understands what it is she's asking, but it feels dangerous to answer. Feels as if he'll remind them both that this is not real, that she will not be here the next day, that this is a memory that will only turn painful the moment she steps out of this room. He wants to see that small genuine smile on her face for a bit longer. Wants her hand in his hair for another minute more. He doesn't even fucking know why. Why he's grasping at something he knows will not remain his.
Maybe he's just tired of being the reason she looks heartbroken.
So instead, he only lets out a quiet breath, a smile of his own tilting his lips, the flash of a crooked canine. ] Do what?
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He is not content. But it's the closest he's allowed himself to get in a long while. (It will be, as it always has, his biggest mistake.)
He blinks at her, drawn out of his thoughts by her question. He thinks he understands what it is she's asking, but it feels dangerous to answer. Feels as if he'll remind them both that this is not real, that she will not be here the next day, that this is a memory that will only turn painful the moment she steps out of this room. He wants to see that small genuine smile on her face for a bit longer. Wants her hand in his hair for another minute more. He doesn't even fucking know why. Why he's grasping at something he knows will not remain his.
Maybe he's just tired of being the reason she looks heartbroken.
So instead, he only lets out a quiet breath, a smile of his own tilting his lips, the flash of a crooked canine. ] Do what?