Chapter Text
He had never been touched so delicately before her. Especially that place usually hidden behind his tightened collar or tattered scarf, that grim reminder of his own mortality around his neck.
But she touched there, beneath the cloth, gently, sometimes timidly with her small fingers. Gliding down from the back of his ears to his nape while her thumb traveled closer to that reddened scar around his neck. He felt as if her touch had always belonged. Here, in front of him.
Her eyes that followed the careful movement of her fingers, never looked at it, at him, with disgust nor pity. To be put plainly she looked at him as if he was a marvel to behold. As if every second he spent in front of her was a second to be cherished. Even with his flaws she reminded him surely, that he would never be forgotten.
So he’d do the same, with his words where it all started. Whispering sweet nothings and endless promises until her lip biting smile and flushed cheeks proved to be too much. Temptation lapped at his fingertips like the sea that were her eyes and the promise they kept to each other.
His needy hands grew tired of waiting, that silver bell was calling for him.
She had never been treated with such softness before him. Especially the way he looked at her eyes, the way he touched her hair, their color being a reminder of the grim events of the past.
Her eyes were silver, but he looked into them with love she had never seen before. Holding her close, threading her hair with his fingers, softly, delicately, as if made of finest silk, careful as if to not break it. Her hair was silver, but he never judged her. Never blamed her for anything. Always made sure she felt that she was wanted, that she belonged. Here, next to him.
And he’d look at her as if she was the most precious thing to him there ever was. Letting her know he wanted her, everything that was her, down to every single flaw. Kissing her as if she was his air he needed to breathe.
But even when she was already in his arms, his hands wandering, his lips hungry, she would always hear him before feeling him. And she would be listened to, patiently, before his needy hands would get the best of him.
Her hands were needy, too, and much less patient.
