[And she of course is nothing like natto. But that is nothing new, so there's nothing about the tight, heavy ball in her gut to stop her from pulling up a more convincing smile, or from echoing back his feelings--trust, fondness, thanks.
She cuts herself off before saying anything more, however; maybe she and her big mouth have ruined enough things for one day.]
[He winces, a little, at that feeling - the tight, heavy ball, and that sense of things ruined, and how intimately familiar it is and how much she's got the blame with the wrong person.]
I mean, yeah, we can take a dessert break, but like.
[He ducks his head - traces the lines of the roof with his eyes, so he doesn't have to see her expression]
Sorry. For - for real. I been - trying real hard, since that one time, but sometimes I ain't - great at it?
But I been trying. And I'll keep trying. It's just - harder, sometimes.
[The guilt is wound through him like a vine; the uncertainty trembles on the edges. There's something else under that, something like - hope, almost? That she'll understand - that she won't hold it against him, that he promised and then keeps messing it up]
Hey-- You're fine--of course you're fine. I don't need you to try nothing; you're good. I--
[Rakes a hand through her hair]
If anybody should apologize, it's me. So--sorry for being weird...and for screwing things up when they were going good. --I-I mean, it seemed like they were going good, and you seemed happy, even if I was pushing you around I guess, so...
[She trails off, awkward. It's not that she doesn't appreciate his efforts--she wants him to talk to her, she wants to be someone he feels he can talk to, and it feels good that he will when he owes her nothing--but guilt chokes up all the more, especially when she's the culprit all along]
And you didn't screw nothing up. I'm the one that, like. You know. Took it the wrong way.
[A flare of remembered heat, the scrape of teeth - and even now, a spark of want comes with it before he can smother it down, before the guilt can drag it somewhere no one can see]
And it wasn't even - that. I mean - I know you didn't mean nothing by it. I just. I'm just dumb. You know?
[It aches, low and deep, somewhere in his chest. That's normal, too. That's been there just about forever - in the way the sunlight catches her hair, when he turns his head just a little, and the way she still has a fleck of pudding on her lip, and the way --]
[He ducks his head - looks away, doing his very best to slam on the brakes before that can get any further. Before the swell of feeling rises up to drown him. Before she sees, though the harder he tries not to think about it, the more it circles around, and the higher the guilt creeps]
A-anyway. It ain't you. Okay? So - I promise. I'll do better.
[Confusion from the other side of the line at basically his entire response, but before she can question what she feels, she's already protesting, automatic:]
You ain't dumb. And I don't need you to do better--you're already way better than I deserve.
[This is completely heartfelt, and her feelings are mixed over how she's thus far been unable to figure out a way to make him believe it. For now, she hunches in on herself a little, shame and guilt welling up]
Look-- I spooked myself, thinking about--something dumb. So I figured--it'd be better for you if I didn't push it. I don't wanna be--disrespectful, y'know? So--when I say you're good, it's 'cause you're good. You don't gotta take this one for me--I ain't that much of an asshole.
What do you mean, disrespectful? You - pretty sure there's nothing you could do, that'd be disrespectful.
[The guilt's still eating him alive, but under that, there's a well of affection, warm and strong, shot through with an ache that's almost physical]
And I - I'm nothing, dude, you're the one that deserves better than me.
I'm the one over here thinking about stuff I promised I'd quit thinking about. It's been like a year, and I'm - I'm just real bad at it, I guess. You're just, like - doing normal stuff, and I'm over here making it weird.
[Looks up at him, somewhere between incredulous and pained; catches his wrist as if that could somehow make him understand]
What do you mean, nothing? You're everything. The first thing I ever even remembered from was how much--how important you are. If I didn't have you--
[She breaks off, flesh hand trembling as she attempts to tamp down the queasy, hopeless swell the thought brings, for her own benefit as much as his. Eventually she rallies, fierceness a thin veneer over a jittery, anxious distress]
Look--you haven't broken any promises 'cause I never asked you to make any. You ain't making anything weird, and even if you were, who cares?
So don't--don't say stuff like that, don't think stuff like that, okay? ...Please.
[She definitely catches the feedback from the distress - feels its echo in him when he contemplates what it would be like without her]
[He looks like he's ready to say something, ready to interject - but then she's pushing on, and he takes her hand, instead - squeezes it, careful and reassuring.]
[Finally, at last, when she's finished:]
...okay. I - I mean. If it's a big deal to you, I'll try not to - to say stuff like that no more.
[He's not sure he can promise not to think it - not when he is the one who makes it weird, nine times of ten. There's a rush of guilt at that, buried somewhere deep, but he tamps down on it, hard. If she wants him to try, he can try. She deserves that much, at least]
[This last bit is a little rushed, under her breath as she looks away. She of all people knows you can't just turn off bad feelings like flipping a light switch, but it's still frustrating. She hates, sad and bleak, that he feels this way--that she's so powerless to change it. Hates, shamed, that in the same breath she squeezes at the hand that he offered, selfishly, gratefully taking his support when she should be the one offering it. Admires his strength and generosity even as it baffles her that he won't spend any of it on himself.
So she sends over feelings of apology, and thanks, because it is hard and he is trying and she appreciates it. Just sits quiet like that for a long moment, holding his hand.]
[He's too busy lost in his own feelings, and in hers. They're nothing new, these feelings; they rise up every time she says something casual that cuts her down to nothing, every time she casts herself aside in favor of someone else]
[He swallows. His thumb traces the back of her hand, gentle]
Just... it goes both ways, is all.
You're - there ain't no one more important to me than you. Okay?
[The affection from before is slow, and warm, and deep. It goes all through him, from the top to the bottom, wound through like roots in the soil. He presses it out toward her, careful - a peace offering, if she'll take it]
[As if there was any doubt? To think that she would deny his affections now, after having gotten a taste--to think that she even could--she's half-insulted, half-impressed he thinks she could be so strong. In reality she couldn't if she'd wanted to, and holds his offering selfishly, embarrassingly tight, hoarding it close and letting it wear away the rough edges of her anxiety and frustration.
In return, she sends almost defiant gratitude and appreciation--for this offering (unnecessary though it is)--for everything he's ever done and ever will do for her (so many things--could probably be fewer things, even). And then, in its wake, a steady light, soft and shy and flattered and so very lucky for the depth and constancy of his feelings, the brush of his thumb, the power of his words. The warmth it brings spreads through her chest and darkens her cheeks]
...Yeah...same. Like I said, you're--everything.
[Cants in towards him unconsciously, like a sunflower turning towards the light. Continues, earnest]
I...wanna try and show you sometimes. So--if I do it wrong or I take too long--just ask for it, okay? If you need me to do something or go somewhere or if you wanna share again like this or--anything...blank check, okay? Just say the word.
[There's a little stutter of surprise at that soft, steady light - something taken aback by the intensity of her appreciation]
[He opens up for it, like before, unfurling himself so that he can soak it in and hold it close. He's a little desperate for it, frankly - almost painfully grateful - decidedly self-conscious to need it so badly]
[Good. Good, that's what it's for. The light strengthens, its power stoked the more he takes, so there's always more than enough.]
...Yeah? I mean, might be cool, sometimes.
[Her words are careful, but her heart is encouraging, hopeful, but open--he can set the bounds, he can define what he wants, instead of having to conform]
[He almost can't imagine going back to not having this, now that he's gotten a taste. It slips through, shaky, like an admission he doesn't want to make]
[She can feel it, in the way he's almost radiating contentment - in the way he hoards the feelings in, like he's afraid to lose them]
[He's a little helpless in the face of it, the way he was before, everything gentle and bright. Affection radiates out toward her, that center-of-the heart feeling that's all warm, soft things, earnest and straightforward. It feels a little like he's offering up everything he has - holding it out to her, carefully, in both hands]
[He leans against her, almost cautious; another layer of contentment settles onto all the rest, at the contact, almost disproportionately good for such a small gesture]
[Honestly--this is worse than a nicotine craving, worse than the need for water after that tenth or fifteenth or twentieth kilometer, that perfect strain in her chest, that hit you'll always be chasing. It's worse because there's no real comedown from the high, no reason to do anything but go up and up and up.
He leans in and she immediately relaxes into him with a sigh of relief, as if she'd been waiting for permission--as if she'd been hoping he wanted more contact as much as she did. And it is small, but even just this is good, and his reflected contentment is better. She wants that, unapologetically sending out all she can think of, gentle and constant--how kind he his, how fun, how pretty, how strong--trust and thanks and need and intimacy and happiness to have this chance again.]
[It's so much it makes him almost shy, something in him stumbling in the face of so much praise, so much affection, as though not quite sure what to do with it.]
[Each wave of feeling stirs one in return; he offers them out to her, helplessly loving, caught up in everything she is, and everything she's done, and all of the ways she amazes him]
[He takes in what she's sending, clumsy - clutches it to himself, even though there's a sense, somewhere in there, that he does not quite deserve this. It's hard to focus on that, though, when everything is so good. He's dazed and a little wondering, unsteady but so grateful - grateful all over again, when she leans back against him, warm and solid by his side.]
[There's a spark of confusion at "pretty" - however unbelievable it all feels, that one especially seems out of place. Their feelings must be overlapping, everything's so close, because surely that's for her. The crooked curve of her smile, with just a hint of teeth showing; the way her hair falls over her shoulders in a angle that never doesn't make him want to run his fingers through it; the way her eyes light up, when she's got an idea, mischievous and bright, the promise of something amazing to come. The way her -]
[A flush of embarrassment, as he catches himself - a small tendril of guilt, as he scrambles to tuck that away, down out of sight]
...Then sheepish--don't be silly, but it's fine--more than fine. It's hard to not be fine, dizzy with so much emotion--it's hard to think, but easy to feel, and she does: warm and soft and (almost) shamelessly content. Ducking her head, she nudges into him again, soothing: it's fine, you're fine, don't worry. Feel guilty later; feel loved now.
Eventually she thinks to make a verbal response]
Just say when.
[His weight is a warm line between them, shoulder to hip and hip to knee; she taps her ankle against his, just because it's there.]
[There's something soft and apologetic forming when the reassurance comes - that it's fine, that he's fine, that everything is fine. It's hard to argue with that, when it's felt at such a soul-deep level, pressed in among all the other things she feels, all the other things he feels]
[But there's a little nudge of confusion, too, when he realizes she's seen it and didn't mind - some wordless little ? of inquiry, as though a part of him had expected something else. Some kind of reproof, maybe; she hadn't wanted it brought up again, after all, but here it is, creeping in around the edges despite his best efforts]
[There's nothing, though - just reassurance. There's nothing but a blanket of warm, soft feelings, and the comfortable weight of her beside him, shoulder to knee]
[The guilt settles down again, soothed. It's hard not to rise to the invitation to feel so loved, and he sinks into it, grateful - radiates love out toward her in turn, just as strong. There's affection, and quiet joy, and the furtive indulgence at how close she is - some near-desperate part of him, starved for contact, almost satisfied for once]
[He laces their fingers together, where their hands are still joined - gives a gentle squeeze]
[Buoyed by his affection and support--bathed in it as she is now, the fears and insecurities that define too many of her reactions have no teeth; it's hard to get too hung up on much of anything that doesn't truly matter. She feels too reassured and indulged herself, grateful and lucky to be allowed all this; self-consciousness dulled too much to try to sabotage.]
...I know.
[Case in point, even while a part of her feels it could and should be too good to be true, she does not, cannot doubt that he would be there anytime, for anything, if she needed it. Which is more humbling than she can even put feeling to; twines with the almost overwhelming volume of emotion already present to swell in her chest almost painfully tight.
Even bonded like this, squeezing his hand back or tracing her thumb over the back of his hand doesn't quite relieve the pressure. Wriggling her hand free to instead curl around his waist proves to be a little better, since like this it's easier to steady herself against the rise and fall of his breath]
[It's almost overwhelming, the strength of her feelings layered on top of his - but somehow, instead of making him want to pull away, all he wants to do is open wider for it, get lost in warmth and affection, let the slow swell of joy at the simple words "I know" roll through him]
[It's better, when her hand slides around his waist - closer. That too-much swell of emotion is hers, or his, or both (it's both)]
[He takes a breath in, that extra added bit of contact like balm over broken skin - lets it out, and shifts a little, sideways, letting one knee come up to rest on the rooftop between them so that he can turn toward her and slide both arms around her, a better embrace, if hampered somewhat by the position]
Maybe he wants this or maybe he's just indulging her, but either way it's good to feel the weight of him, the warmth of him--it's a treat to have this at a time of joy rather than desperation. Not that it feels particularly less intense, and her other arm snakes around as well, solid weight against his back, warm with the heat of the sun and the generator at her palm and fingertips. This too is good--it's better, especially if maybe he also thinks it's better, and no pressure, but--
(She does attempt to lean them back a bit so they don't actually fall off the roof, because that's the sort of thing you really only need to experience once to have your fill of it)]
[God, does he ever. How could he not, when she's warm and close, and he can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the steady rhythm of her heart]
[It feels like a luxury, to have this; it feels like he's somehow been granted a single perfect moment. There's a slow, swooping, dizzying flood of utter gratitude - the sense, buried somewhere way down deep, that there was a long, long time when he would have given anything at all for a taste of what he has right now]
[He lets himself be moved back from the ledge - seems perfectly willing to follow her lead wherever she wants to move them, as long as they can stay this way just a little while longer]
And that stokes the heat in her chest and the flush in her cheeks as well, spreads her selfish, indulgent smile even further, lets her heart speed, just a little.
Actually falling back to the rooftop is not entirely intentional, but the tarmac of the roof is warm and the company is good, so that's something. She laughs a little, surprised, and then just happy. Which is kind of stupid, but being stupidly happy is kind of how things have been going for a while, so may as well roll with it]
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Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[And she of course is nothing like natto. But that is nothing new, so there's nothing about the tight, heavy ball in her gut to stop her from pulling up a more convincing smile, or from echoing back his feelings--trust, fondness, thanks.
She cuts herself off before saying anything more, however; maybe she and her big mouth have ruined enough things for one day.]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
and how much she's got the blame with the wrong person.]Xia...
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
...I brought some real food, if you wanna take a dessert break.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
I mean, yeah, we can take a dessert break, but like.
[He ducks his head - traces the lines of the roof with his eyes, so he doesn't have to see her expression]
Sorry. For - for real. I been - trying real hard, since that one time, but sometimes I ain't - great at it?
But I been trying. And I'll keep trying. It's just - harder, sometimes.
[The guilt is wound through him like a vine; the uncertainty trembles on the edges. There's something else under that, something like - hope, almost? That she'll understand - that she won't hold it against him, that he promised and then keeps messing it up]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
Hey-- You're fine--of course you're fine. I don't need you to try nothing; you're good. I--
[Rakes a hand through her hair]
If anybody should apologize, it's me. So--sorry for being weird...and for screwing things up when they were going good. --I-I mean, it seemed like they were going good, and you seemed happy, even if I was pushing you around I guess, so...
[She trails off, awkward. It's not that she doesn't appreciate his efforts--she wants him to talk to her, she wants to be someone he feels he can talk to, and it feels good that he will when he owes her nothing--but guilt chokes up all the more, especially when she's the culprit all along]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
And you didn't screw nothing up. I'm the one that, like. You know. Took it the wrong way.
[A flare of remembered heat, the scrape of teeth - and even now, a spark of want comes with it before he can smother it down, before the guilt can drag it somewhere no one can see]
And it wasn't even - that. I mean - I know you didn't mean nothing by it. I just. I'm just dumb. You know?
[It aches, low and deep, somewhere in his chest. That's normal, too. That's been there just about forever - in the way the sunlight catches her hair, when he turns his head just a little, and the way she still has a fleck of pudding on her lip, and the way --]
[He ducks his head - looks away, doing his very best to slam on the brakes before that can get any further. Before the swell of feeling rises up to drown him. Before she sees, though the harder he tries not to think about it, the more it circles around, and the higher the guilt creeps]
A-anyway. It ain't you. Okay? So - I promise. I'll do better.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
You ain't dumb. And I don't need you to do better--you're already way better than I deserve.
[This is completely heartfelt, and her feelings are mixed over how she's thus far been unable to figure out a way to make him believe it. For now, she hunches in on herself a little, shame and guilt welling up]
Look-- I spooked myself, thinking about--something dumb. So I figured--it'd be better for you if I didn't push it. I don't wanna be--disrespectful, y'know? So--when I say you're good, it's 'cause you're good. You don't gotta take this one for me--I ain't that much of an asshole.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[The guilt's still eating him alive, but under that, there's a well of affection, warm and strong, shot through with an ache that's almost physical]
And I - I'm nothing, dude, you're the one that deserves better than me.
I'm the one over here thinking about stuff I promised I'd quit thinking about. It's been like a year, and I'm - I'm just real bad at it, I guess. You're just, like - doing normal stuff, and I'm over here making it weird.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
What do you mean, nothing? You're everything. The first thing I ever even remembered from was how much--how important you are. If I didn't have you--
[She breaks off, flesh hand trembling as she attempts to tamp down the queasy, hopeless swell the thought brings, for her own benefit as much as his. Eventually she rallies, fierceness a thin veneer over a jittery, anxious distress]
Look--you haven't broken any promises 'cause I never asked you to make any. You ain't making anything weird, and even if you were, who cares?
So don't--don't say stuff like that, don't think stuff like that, okay? ...Please.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[He looks like he's ready to say something, ready to interject - but then she's pushing on, and he takes her hand, instead - squeezes it, careful and reassuring.]
[Finally, at last, when she's finished:]
...okay. I - I mean. If it's a big deal to you, I'll try not to - to say stuff like that no more.
[He's not sure he can promise not to think it - not when he is the one who makes it weird, nine times of ten. There's a rush of guilt at that, buried somewhere deep, but he tamps down on it, hard. If she wants him to try, he can try. She deserves that much, at least]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[Sighs, tired]
--I wish you were a big deal to you, too.
[This last bit is a little rushed, under her breath as she looks away. She of all people knows you can't just turn off bad feelings like flipping a light switch, but it's still frustrating. She hates, sad and bleak, that he feels this way--that she's so powerless to change it. Hates, shamed, that in the same breath she squeezes at the hand that he offered, selfishly, gratefully taking his support when she should be the one offering it. Admires his strength and generosity even as it baffles her that he won't spend any of it on himself.
So she sends over feelings of apology, and thanks, because it is hard and he is trying and she appreciates it. Just sits quiet like that for a long moment, holding his hand.]
...You were gonna say something...?
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[He's too busy lost in his own feelings, and in hers. They're nothing new, these feelings; they rise up every time she says something casual that cuts her down to nothing, every time she casts herself aside in favor of someone else]
[He swallows. His thumb traces the back of her hand, gentle]
Just... it goes both ways, is all.
You're - there ain't no one more important to me than you. Okay?
[The affection from before is slow, and warm, and deep. It goes all through him, from the top to the bottom, wound through like roots in the soil. He presses it out toward her, careful - a peace offering, if she'll take it]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
In return, she sends almost defiant gratitude and appreciation--for this offering (unnecessary though it is)--for everything he's ever done and ever will do for her (so many things--could probably be fewer things, even). And then, in its wake, a steady light, soft and shy and flattered and so very lucky for the depth and constancy of his feelings, the brush of his thumb, the power of his words. The warmth it brings spreads through her chest and darkens her cheeks]
...Yeah...same. Like I said, you're--everything.
[Cants in towards him unconsciously, like a sunflower turning towards the light. Continues, earnest]
I...wanna try and show you sometimes. So--if I do it wrong or I take too long--just ask for it, okay? If you need me to do something or go somewhere or if you wanna share again like this or--anything...blank check, okay? Just say the word.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[He opens up for it, like before, unfurling himself so that he can soak it in and hold it close. He's a little desperate for it, frankly - almost painfully grateful - decidedly self-conscious to need it so badly]
I... wouldn't mind. Sharing like this sometimes.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
...Yeah? I mean, might be cool, sometimes.
[Her words are careful, but her heart is encouraging, hopeful, but open--he can set the bounds, he can define what he wants, instead of having to conform]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[She can feel it, in the way he's almost radiating contentment - in the way he hoards the feelings in, like he's afraid to lose them]
[He's a little helpless in the face of it, the way he was before, everything gentle and bright. Affection radiates out toward her, that center-of-the heart feeling that's all warm, soft things, earnest and straightforward. It feels a little like he's offering up everything he has - holding it out to her, carefully, in both hands]
[He leans against her, almost cautious; another layer of contentment settles onto all the rest, at the contact, almost disproportionately good for such a small gesture]
Yeah. Might be real nice.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
He leans in and she immediately relaxes into him with a sigh of relief, as if she'd been waiting for permission--as if she'd been hoping he wanted more contact as much as she did. And it is small, but even just this is good, and his reflected contentment is better. She wants that, unapologetically sending out all she can think of, gentle and constant--how kind he his, how fun, how pretty, how strong--trust and thanks and need and intimacy and happiness to have this chance again.]
Prolly wouldn't hurt to give it a shot, I guess.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[It's so much it makes him almost shy, something in him stumbling in the face of so much praise, so much affection, as though not quite sure what to do with it.]
[Each wave of feeling stirs one in return; he offers them out to her, helplessly loving, caught up in everything she is, and everything she's done, and all of the ways she amazes him]
[He takes in what she's sending, clumsy - clutches it to himself, even though there's a sense, somewhere in there, that he does not quite deserve this. It's hard to focus on that, though, when everything is so good. He's dazed and a little wondering, unsteady but so grateful - grateful all over again, when she leans back against him, warm and solid by his side.]
[There's a spark of confusion at "pretty" - however unbelievable it all feels, that one especially seems out of place. Their feelings must be overlapping, everything's so close, because surely that's for her. The crooked curve of her smile, with just a hint of teeth showing; the way her hair falls over her shoulders in a angle that never doesn't make him want to run his fingers through it; the way her eyes light up, when she's got an idea, mischievous and bright, the promise of something amazing to come. The way her -]
[A flush of embarrassment, as he catches himself - a small tendril of guilt, as he scrambles to tuck that away, down out of sight]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
...Then sheepish--don't be silly, but it's fine--more than fine. It's hard to not be fine, dizzy with so much emotion--it's hard to think, but easy to feel, and she does: warm and soft and (almost) shamelessly content. Ducking her head, she nudges into him again, soothing: it's fine, you're fine, don't worry. Feel guilty later; feel loved now.
Eventually she thinks to make a verbal response]
Just say when.
[His weight is a warm line between them, shoulder to hip and hip to knee; she taps her ankle against his, just because it's there.]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[But there's a little nudge of confusion, too, when he realizes she's seen it and didn't mind - some wordless little ? of inquiry, as though a part of him had expected something else. Some kind of reproof, maybe; she hadn't wanted it brought up again, after all, but here it is, creeping in around the edges despite his best efforts]
[There's nothing, though - just reassurance. There's nothing but a blanket of warm, soft feelings, and the comfortable weight of her beside him, shoulder to knee]
[The guilt settles down again, soothed. It's hard not to rise to the invitation to feel so loved, and he sinks into it, grateful - radiates love out toward her in turn, just as strong. There's affection, and quiet joy, and the furtive indulgence at how close she is - some near-desperate part of him, starved for contact, almost satisfied for once]
[He laces their fingers together, where their hands are still joined - gives a gentle squeeze]
You too, kay?
Like... anytime.
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
...I know.
[Case in point, even while a part of her feels it could and should be too good to be true, she does not, cannot doubt that he would be there anytime, for anything, if she needed it. Which is more humbling than she can even put feeling to; twines with the almost overwhelming volume of emotion already present to swell in her chest almost painfully tight.
Even bonded like this, squeezing his hand back or tracing her thumb over the back of his hand doesn't quite relieve the pressure. Wriggling her hand free to instead curl around his waist proves to be a little better, since like this it's easier to steady herself against the rise and fall of his breath]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[It's better, when her hand slides around his waist - closer. That too-much swell of emotion is hers, or his, or both (it's both)]
[He takes a breath in, that extra added bit of contact like balm over broken skin - lets it out, and shifts a little, sideways, letting one knee come up to rest on the rooftop between them so that he can turn toward her and slide both arms around her, a better embrace, if hampered somewhat by the position]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
Maybe he wants this or maybe he's just indulging her, but either way it's good to feel the weight of him, the warmth of him--it's a treat to have this at a time of joy rather than desperation. Not that it feels particularly less intense, and her other arm snakes around as well, solid weight against his back, warm with the heat of the sun and the generator at her palm and fingertips. This too is good--it's better, especially if maybe he also thinks it's better, and no pressure, but--
(She does attempt to lean them back a bit so they don't actually fall off the roof, because that's the sort of thing you really only need to experience once to have your fill of it)]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
[God, does he ever. How could he not, when she's warm and close, and he can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the steady rhythm of her heart]
[It feels like a luxury, to have this; it feels like he's somehow been granted a single perfect moment. There's a slow, swooping, dizzying flood of utter gratitude - the sense, buried somewhere way down deep, that there was a long, long time when he would have given anything at all for a taste of what he has right now]
[He lets himself be moved back from the ledge - seems perfectly willing to follow her lead wherever she wants to move them, as long as they can stay this way just a little while longer]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
And that stokes the heat in her chest and the flush in her cheeks as well, spreads her selfish, indulgent smile even further, lets her heart speed, just a little.
Actually falling back to the rooftop is not entirely intentional, but the tarmac of the roof is warm and the company is good, so that's something. She laughs a little, surprised, and then just happy. Which is kind of stupid, but being stupidly happy is kind of how things have been going for a while, so may as well roll with it]
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