[The quiet isn't helpful, it's heavy, but it doesn't make things worse, not right now. There's more he wants to do. He wants to take more than just her hands, but she's already warned him her control is a new, infant thing. Slowly, he moves his thumbs along her skin, the gesture as much for himself as it is for her.]
You need to tell me what's too much. [His voice is hoarse, scratchy, dry like he's been in the desert for days and still scared of what all of this means. He doesn't know what he's doing, and he's still feeling too much, but he ignores it in favor of focusing on her.]
[He drops one of her hands and lifts his, hovering up near her face like he wants to touch her cheek. It feels weird to ask, but he doesn't want to startle her across the room again, doesn't want to trigger it.] Is this okay -?
no subject
You need to tell me what's too much. [His voice is hoarse, scratchy, dry like he's been in the desert for days and still scared of what all of this means. He doesn't know what he's doing, and he's still feeling too much, but he ignores it in favor of focusing on her.]
[He drops one of her hands and lifts his, hovering up near her face like he wants to touch her cheek. It feels weird to ask, but he doesn't want to startle her across the room again, doesn't want to trigger it.] Is this okay -?