The moment he did that—the moment she reached up and touched the side of his face... it was like he could finally relax. Actually relax because it's such a rare thing for him, so much so that when she begins to draw back his eyes flutter open so peaceably they remain hooded for a moment.
Ah.
... no, what's funny is how when he was so uncertain a moment ago—he really isn't at all anymore. And it's why he'll smile to her, some very unguarded and worn sort of easy warmth in it, as he brings his hand up to rest gently over the one she's touched his face with. Sad-sweet, and so serene about it.
Serene and certain. ]
In the forest...
[ He's speaking so very softly and yet it sounds too loud to him so he stops for a moment. Presses his lips together and tries not to think about the lingering tingle there. Like realizing it's a moment where probably someone is supposed to not say anything and just let the world catch back up. Except for in a moment of clarity realizing the thing he couldn't let rest—
Because in the forest... the thing that made her upset in the first place; "don't lie to me", "I want to protect you from forgetting yourself", "how can I be able to protect you... when you won't let me?"
His being disingenuous.
In crossing whatever invisible line he did when he leaned to kiss her, to some different and entirely new paradigm shift of how everything was and will be, it also became the most egregious thing to keep that sort of thing from her anymore. Even if it might hurt her.
He owes her that now, doesn't he? And Allen Walker does not suffer a debt.
So he smiles. Gently in that way of someone who knows what they're about to say is hard, and squeezes her hand lightly.
Because this is hard for him too. ]
...because I was afraid I might hurt Syrlya, I struck myself.
That's why. [ Why he didn't want to tell her.
And why when he says that with such serenity now he meant that kiss as an apology as well. Just like the part of him she loves—it too won't change. Because of situations like that. Though even if it's also something that will never change—he presses her palm lightly against his cheek, eyes flicking downward even if his smile doesn't falter. ]
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The moment he did that—the moment she reached up and touched the side of his face... it was like he could finally relax. Actually relax because it's such a rare thing for him, so much so that when she begins to draw back his eyes flutter open so peaceably they remain hooded for a moment.
Ah.
... no, what's funny is how when he was so uncertain a moment ago—he really isn't at all anymore. And it's why he'll smile to her, some very unguarded and worn sort of easy warmth in it, as he brings his hand up to rest gently over the one she's touched his face with. Sad-sweet, and so serene about it.
Serene and certain. ]
In the forest...
[ He's speaking so very softly and yet it sounds too loud to him so he stops for a moment. Presses his lips together and tries not to think about the lingering tingle there. Like realizing it's a moment where probably someone is supposed to not say anything and just let the world catch back up. Except for in a moment of clarity realizing the thing he couldn't let rest—
Because in the forest... the thing that made her upset in the first place; "don't lie to me", "I want to protect you from forgetting yourself", "how can I be able to protect you... when you won't let me?"
His being disingenuous.
In crossing whatever invisible line he did when he leaned to kiss her, to some different and entirely new paradigm shift of how everything was and will be, it also became the most egregious thing to keep that sort of thing from her anymore. Even if it might hurt her.
He owes her that now, doesn't he? And Allen Walker does not suffer a debt.
So he smiles. Gently in that way of someone who knows what they're about to say is hard, and squeezes her hand lightly.
Because this is hard for him too. ]
...because I was afraid I might hurt Syrlya, I struck myself.
That's why. [ Why he didn't want to tell her.
And why when he says that with such serenity now he meant that kiss as an apology as well. Just like the part of him she loves—it too won't change. Because of situations like that. Though even if it's also something that will never change—he presses her palm lightly against his cheek, eyes flicking downward even if his smile doesn't falter. ]
I'm sorry.