He's not exactly romantic material and hasn't been for years. Then again, his whole life, he's been one of those annoyingly touchy-feely people: hugs, holding hands, being close, bumping shoulders with people. It wasn't until Titan and prison that he steered himself away from that, sadly and to his immense unhappiness.
It's been so long since he had someone in his arms.
This is as far as it can go, for so many reasons he doesn't even want to start counting them. The natural recourse would be to turn, press a kiss to the side of her face or the top of her head, and get even closer. But he won't do that.
He can't do that.
He's not even sure what he's feeling here: it's been so long since he felt anything at all. It's an awkward moment -- one of his most awkward, he thinks -- but he doesn't want to give it up, not yet.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Lungs still work. Dead people don't breathe. They don't feel their hearts beating... especially not just that little bit faster when they hold someone in their arms. They don't get so awfully conflicted with self-analysis. In this moment, he decides he's not dead. It doesn't matter what his memories tell him: Faye's proof positive that memory is as fleeting as anything else.
"Good. All I want is for you to feel safe."
Maybe that's not all he wants, but it's all he'll own up to in this moment... except for one small admission.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2007-07-01 05:42 pm (UTC)He's not exactly romantic material and hasn't been for years. Then again, his whole life, he's been one of those annoyingly touchy-feely people: hugs, holding hands, being close, bumping shoulders with people. It wasn't until Titan and prison that he steered himself away from that, sadly and to his immense unhappiness.
It's been so long since he had someone in his arms.
This is as far as it can go, for so many reasons he doesn't even want to start counting them. The natural recourse would be to turn, press a kiss to the side of her face or the top of her head, and get even closer. But he won't do that.
He can't do that.
He's not even sure what he's feeling here: it's been so long since he felt anything at all. It's an awkward moment -- one of his most awkward, he thinks -- but he doesn't want to give it up, not yet.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Lungs still work. Dead people don't breathe. They don't feel their hearts beating... especially not just that little bit faster when they hold someone in their arms. They don't get so awfully conflicted with self-analysis. In this moment, he decides he's not dead. It doesn't matter what his memories tell him: Faye's proof positive that memory is as fleeting as anything else.
"Good. All I want is for you to feel safe."
Maybe that's not all he wants, but it's all he'll own up to in this moment... except for one small admission.
"I'm usually a much bigger flirt with you."