( he has suffered his own unravellings from that close brush with whatever death is possible for him here. he has, but he has not thought of hers. he has not considered what fears or revelations it might have inspired in her, much too occupied with his own.
her confession strikes true, and the dealt blow of it is clear on his face: he did not consider her worry for him. he does not consider anyone's worry for him, from perceived indifference to the lack of necessity for it. he is immortal, but that is not why this moves him.
it moves him because she cares. (she cares like so few do.) it moves him to stunned silence, his breath held in exquisite anticipation as the rest of her confession falls from her lips, because it means she wants. she wants more. she wants again. this is a blow, because it takes him a moment of incomprehension to understand, to believe —
he shifts on his feet once in his uncertainty.
then there is nothing left to say. his hand reaches to cradle her face; his lips fit with tender and firm passion to hers. )
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
her confession strikes true, and the dealt blow of it is clear on his face: he did not consider her worry for him. he does not consider anyone's worry for him, from perceived indifference to the lack of necessity for it. he is immortal, but that is not why this moves him.
it moves him because she cares. (she cares like so few do.) it moves him to stunned silence, his breath held in exquisite anticipation as the rest of her confession falls from her lips, because it means she wants. she wants more. she wants again. this is a blow, because it takes him a moment of incomprehension to understand, to believe —
he shifts on his feet once in his uncertainty.
then there is nothing left to say. his hand reaches to cradle her face; his lips fit with tender and firm passion to hers. )