[ He's split between awkward teenager and an apprehensive small animal, eyes open while he allows her and himself to drift closer, one arm around him, her face in his hair, all very soft and gentle. It's the opposite of what he's used to, the opposite of what he's supposed to enjoy. All he has is uncertainty now, and it's a bit like dipping into cold water little by little until your body adapts to the temperature. From then he manages to find comfort, however strange that still is, and his eyes droop a little.
He's no longer pushing and shoving to stay connected with her. They just are. ]
no subject
He's no longer pushing and shoving to stay connected with her. They just are. ]
( What if you leave me too. )