[He feels the sharp nip at his lip, soon followed by the coppery taste of blood, mixed with the strangely sweet taste of sap, and she she draws back, he runs his tongue over the small wound to realise she had caught him with her teeth. Whatever impulse had seized him in the moment prior is over, beset instead by the accusation in her words, both verbal or in communion.]
I... [How does he explain himself? None of this was planned, and his throat suddenly feels dry. He swallows.] I wanted to show you how I felt.
[An unguarded answer, for once. She had held his shard, so he doesn't think he can offer her any less.]
When I said I was here for you... It wasn't a joke.
[She might find him flippant, and churlish, and irritating. For once, though, he's not trying to be any of those things.]
no subject
I... [How does he explain himself? None of this was planned, and his throat suddenly feels dry. He swallows.] I wanted to show you how I felt.
[An unguarded answer, for once. She had held his shard, so he doesn't think he can offer her any less.]
When I said I was here for you... It wasn't a joke.
[She might find him flippant, and churlish, and irritating. For once, though, he's not trying to be any of those things.]