[Maker, but that feels good. Better than it normally does, for Fenris doesn't flinch or tense up in preparation of the pain that will surely follow. Pain has no place here, not when he's in this dreamy half-asleep state. His hand rises, covering her own, in part to keep it there and in part simply to touch her.
He likes touching her. He likes her, sweet and kind and straightforward, and that's a little bit remarkable unto itself, when it takes him so long to like anyone. But there's an understanding there, however faint. An acknowledgement born on mutual horror and trauma; she understands that part of him as no one ever has before, and Maker, but he had not realized how lonely that such a solitary existence was until now.
It's not that no one has ever cared. Of course they have. But there are things he doesn't have to explain to her; horrors and traumas to the depths of his thoughts that he can simply offer up as they are, not having to explain them. that he has not ever shared with anyone before. She looks at him and she knows, she understands, and that's—
How can he not seek her out?]
But it is vastly improved with your company, now.
[He turns his head, his lips brushing gently against her palm in a kiss. It's daring, a little, but not really. And he keeps his eyes on her, steady and, if not questioning, at least silently waiting for permission. It's all so simple in the dream; all his hesitations and fears and horrors swept away, hazily muffled in favor of this immediate, warm desire.]
no subject
[Maker, but that feels good. Better than it normally does, for Fenris doesn't flinch or tense up in preparation of the pain that will surely follow. Pain has no place here, not when he's in this dreamy half-asleep state. His hand rises, covering her own, in part to keep it there and in part simply to touch her.
He likes touching her. He likes her, sweet and kind and straightforward, and that's a little bit remarkable unto itself, when it takes him so long to like anyone. But there's an understanding there, however faint. An acknowledgement born on mutual horror and trauma; she understands that part of him as no one ever has before, and Maker, but he had not realized how lonely that such a solitary existence was until now.
It's not that no one has ever cared. Of course they have. But there are things he doesn't have to explain to her; horrors and traumas to the depths of his thoughts that he can simply offer up as they are, not having to explain them. that he has not ever shared with anyone before. She looks at him and she knows, she understands, and that's—
How can he not seek her out?]
But it is vastly improved with your company, now.
[He turns his head, his lips brushing gently against her palm in a kiss. It's daring, a little, but not really. And he keeps his eyes on her, steady and, if not questioning, at least silently waiting for permission. It's all so simple in the dream; all his hesitations and fears and horrors swept away, hazily muffled in favor of this immediate, warm desire.]