[Emet-Selch is both surprised and not, when Irhya settles on top of him instead of next to, her weight slight, but noticeable. His own expression carries a note of question to it, a feeling that is not wholly answered in her kiss, but more so by her words, soft as they are.
So soft that he's not sure at first if he just imagined them. In his uncertainty, he raises a hand to her hair, gently stroking from her bangs and back, a gesture nearly meant to sooth. But to sooth what- he wasn't sure. Nor was he certain who the reassurance was meant for. She cared for him- that much was clear, for all that he didn't understand the why nor the how. And much less, how he felt about it- apart from the pain of it. But that was normal.
That was sentiment. That was how his feelings ran.]
Yet....
[His own voice escapes at a similar volume, a vibration in his throat that barely qualified as words.]
no subject
So soft that he's not sure at first if he just imagined them. In his uncertainty, he raises a hand to her hair, gently stroking from her bangs and back, a gesture nearly meant to sooth. But to sooth what- he wasn't sure. Nor was he certain who the reassurance was meant for. She cared for him- that much was clear, for all that he didn't understand the why nor the how. And much less, how he felt about it- apart from the pain of it. But that was normal.
That was sentiment. That was how his feelings ran.]
Yet....
[His own voice escapes at a similar volume, a vibration in his throat that barely qualified as words.]
I'm still here.