Even as the light pressure of her hand squeezing his disappears, he really can't help but squeeze back - the look on her face makes his heart ache, he knows he's left this always unspoken, partly because he has thought (hoped) that she understands it is given, and maybe (likely) also because he was afraid to say it, afraid to burden her with a bond that might disappear only all too soon either through death or well...
He has no idea how to explain this all, how to put in words that it has nothing to do with her and everything with him.
So he doesn't and just keeps squeezing her hand gently. And hopes she understands what he isn't daring to say out loud.
no subject
Even as the light pressure of her hand squeezing his disappears, he really can't help but squeeze back - the look on her face makes his heart ache, he knows he's left this always unspoken, partly because he has thought (hoped) that she understands it is given, and maybe (likely) also because he was afraid to say it, afraid to burden her with a bond that might disappear only all too soon either through death or well...
He has no idea how to explain this all, how to put in words that it has nothing to do with her and everything with him.
So he doesn't and just keeps squeezing her hand gently. And hopes she understands what he isn't daring to say out loud.
'Even then.']