[ he lets her. of course he does. there's no instinct to hide from her, not in this moment. (there have been times where he's yanked his hand away from others, knowing what might seep through their taction.)
the worry comes through first, a nervous skitter at the point of their connection, electric on the skin (enough to make one's hair stand on end); the heavy press of fear, too, barely contained by a shaky control.
a tiny shake of his head. that's the problem, isn't it? she trusts him too much. her and daisy both. everyone here. a spike of new emotion cuts through the rest, guilt. he already knows there are moments where he edged over the line (and a few where he lept, without repercussion). ]
no subject
the worry comes through first, a nervous skitter at the point of their connection, electric on the skin (enough to make one's hair stand on end); the heavy press of fear, too, barely contained by a shaky control.
a tiny shake of his head. that's the problem, isn't it? she trusts him too much. her and daisy both. everyone here. a spike of new emotion cuts through the rest, guilt. he already knows there are moments where he edged over the line (and a few where he lept, without repercussion). ]
Then trust what I'm saying now.