[ It's just... Somehow, the idea that she would be so happy didn't occur to him. He thought she'd be disappointed in him, honestly. Being so absolutely, radiantly happy—like just like that, something so small made her believe in miracles...
He's just stunned, honestly. In a good way. An "I did that?" way.
But he blinks when she takes his hand, not quite certain for a second what she means to do. But When she turns it around to press her lips to the band of dark red skin between his sleeve and glove... ]
Ah— [ again, he's tongue-tied. but the meaning is also clear: no, she did not mind. Which is a little thrilling, actually, as much as it's also a huge relief.
Scary, but thrilling. And enough to bring a small blush finally to his face.
...words seem entirely too clunky to possibly express what he wants to. That they would be too much—or entirely not enough. If he even know what it was exactly he wanted to say. But she's looking at him for that response still. So he just reaches out instead, with his right hand, and gently touches the side of her head. Letting his fingers thread through some of the rain-slicked peach colored strands of her hair in a quiet, slightly awestruck manner.
Grateful.
If she'll let him, he'll tug her into a light hug. Close, but nothing dramatic. Just a quiet, grateful sort embrace where he seems to relax a little at last.
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He's just stunned, honestly. In a good way. An "I did that?" way.
But he blinks when she takes his hand, not quite certain for a second what she means to do. But When she turns it around to press her lips to the band of dark red skin between his sleeve and glove... ]
Ah— [ again, he's tongue-tied. but the meaning is also clear: no, she did not mind. Which is a little thrilling, actually, as much as it's also a huge relief.
Scary, but thrilling. And enough to bring a small blush finally to his face.
...words seem entirely too clunky to possibly express what he wants to. That they would be too much—or entirely not enough. If he even know what it was exactly he wanted to say. But she's looking at him for that response still. So he just reaches out instead, with his right hand, and gently touches the side of her head. Letting his fingers thread through some of the rain-slicked peach colored strands of her hair in a quiet, slightly awestruck manner.
Grateful.
If she'll let him, he'll tug her into a light hug. Close, but nothing dramatic. Just a quiet, grateful sort embrace where he seems to relax a little at last.
A thankful sort of one. ]