Damn, but he shouldn't have touched her. He'd given himself just that one small and brief, gentle touch. Just a slight moment of what it could be like to feel her softness under his fingertips (okay, muzzle, but closest thing to fingertips he has). But he knew better than to mess with her when she's sleeping. It tended not to go well, as it did now. She woke with a start, causing him to frown at the fear laden in those lovely almond eyes. He wants to move in again, steal away the worry he sees there, but he remains, opting to attempt to snap her out of it with calling her name. At least that had seemed to work. His concern eases when she visibly relaxes at the sight of him. He almost smiles at that- that she would be comforted by his presence. Still, though, he must apologize for the way he'd snapped at her. She hadn't deserved that, no matter how jealous or angry he'd been. He had no claim to her. She was not bound to him in any form, therefore he'd been out of line.
Then, he goes about trying to explain himself, and she is silent all the while, letting him go on and make himself out to be the fool he is. By the end of his speech he feels no larger than an ant crawling about. Sounding so foolish and vulnerable. It didn't even occur to him that his question would make her feel burdening. But her silence makes him finally look at her with her brows furrowed, as though she can't believe he would ask her such a question. Could he ever make her happy. Goddamn, the hopeless look in her eyes breaks his heart. At first, he could swear it was for him. That he isn't good enough to make her happy, and she just didn't want to say. Yet, as she seems to scrounge for an answer, he watches as the look on her face tells a whole other story. She doesn't think she can be happy. By his doing or anyone else's. He exhales shortly, and shakes his head, disapproving. That bastard had done that to her. A few hours of torment for his pleasure, to cause so much lasting pain and a blow to her confidence. He was just going to have to prove her wrong, then, wasn't he?
She speaks about the twins making her happy, and he smiles warmly and nods. "Of course. Those half-pints could brighten anyone's day." A slight chuckle follows, and he doesn't bother to hide the affection for them from his tone nor face. He presses her with a gentle but fixed stare, then. "That isn't quite wha' I meant, dove, but tha's alright." He shrugs lazily and looks off into the forest for a moment. His tone is mildly nonchalant in an attempt to keep her from feeling guilty, but he inwardly berates himself for not making himself more clear. Though, there is something that makes him believe it isn't time yet. There is more he must do to prove he is worth it. No, that she is worth it. And that would take time. It's okay, though, he decides. He has plenty of that to give to her. Sighing, he lets go his anger from the night before and his worry over hurting her, instead pondering where to go from here. Forward, he hopes.
Her next words surprise him. "It was hard to sleep without you there." Stiff and thick with tension in her voice. So forced that he had to snap his seagreen gaze back to her face to check it for truth. He found it, her honestly, but then has to check himself to contain the giddy bit of laughter that threatens to twitch his lips upward and bubble out. That would be embarrassing, for both of them. Of course, her admission was pleasing to him, confirming his earlier thought that she finds comfort in his presence. He is so glad to hear it. But, it's the way it sounds like she's blaming him for her lack of sleep. Like she's mad or worried that saying the words out loud is a bad thing. "I missed you too, love. I'll try to be better in the future." Okay, so the amusement bled through into his tone, and now there is a bit of a crook in his lips. It's not a joke, he did miss her, and hated- even for a night- to be away with the thought that there was this distance between them, physical and emotional.
Breathing through the bit of hangover from his bender, Reilly heaves himself up onto his feet, shaking loose the tension in his muscles and the cobwebs from his mind, and a few dried leaves from his mane. He takes that moment to stretch, registering a bit of soreness in his right front leg. As though he'd gotten into a fight with something solid and large. Hm, interesting because he couldn't remember getting into any fights. Ah well, he must have won, because there isn't a scratch on him. Good, then. He yawns and straightens his stance, letting his lids droop to half-mast as he begins to turn his head to look back at her. His ears flick to catch the sound of her throat clearing and his eyes snap to hers at the little question that follows.
"Will you... And his heart thuds softly in anticipation of her words, curious what she is about to ask.
"Are you leaving?"
His chest tightens as he searches her face, sees her trying to mask the worry laying just under the surface. All he wants in that moment is to be closer to her, tell her exactly everything that she makes him feel, promise her the world. But that would be too much so soon. Instead, he lets his face soften and turns his body to align with hers and settles down again beside her. Close, but not touching. It has to be her choice, he reminds himself. "No, love. I'm not goin' anywhere. My home is here now." With you. His head leans toward hers. Not touching, though he wants to. A small smile lifts his lips, and drowsiness lowers his lids, though not closing. He simply lays there and revels in the nearness of her beside him. His gaze lazily sweeps her face, her body and the way she looks as though she'd fit right into his side. Sexy, petite woman she is. "You should know how beautiful you are, Lace. Truly." His smile remains, as his gaze locks with hers. Damn, he aches to touch her. To be so close without contact is a torture in itself that he can hardly stand, but he will not ask it of her. Will not take anything from her for his own selfish wants. She deserves better than that. Pulling his head back some, in case she requires more space, he slowly lets his eyes drift closed.
Then, he goes about trying to explain himself, and she is silent all the while, letting him go on and make himself out to be the fool he is. By the end of his speech he feels no larger than an ant crawling about. Sounding so foolish and vulnerable. It didn't even occur to him that his question would make her feel burdening. But her silence makes him finally look at her with her brows furrowed, as though she can't believe he would ask her such a question. Could he ever make her happy. Goddamn, the hopeless look in her eyes breaks his heart. At first, he could swear it was for him. That he isn't good enough to make her happy, and she just didn't want to say. Yet, as she seems to scrounge for an answer, he watches as the look on her face tells a whole other story. She doesn't think she can be happy. By his doing or anyone else's. He exhales shortly, and shakes his head, disapproving. That bastard had done that to her. A few hours of torment for his pleasure, to cause so much lasting pain and a blow to her confidence. He was just going to have to prove her wrong, then, wasn't he?
She speaks about the twins making her happy, and he smiles warmly and nods. "Of course. Those half-pints could brighten anyone's day." A slight chuckle follows, and he doesn't bother to hide the affection for them from his tone nor face. He presses her with a gentle but fixed stare, then. "That isn't quite wha' I meant, dove, but tha's alright." He shrugs lazily and looks off into the forest for a moment. His tone is mildly nonchalant in an attempt to keep her from feeling guilty, but he inwardly berates himself for not making himself more clear. Though, there is something that makes him believe it isn't time yet. There is more he must do to prove he is worth it. No, that she is worth it. And that would take time. It's okay, though, he decides. He has plenty of that to give to her. Sighing, he lets go his anger from the night before and his worry over hurting her, instead pondering where to go from here. Forward, he hopes.
Her next words surprise him. "It was hard to sleep without you there." Stiff and thick with tension in her voice. So forced that he had to snap his seagreen gaze back to her face to check it for truth. He found it, her honestly, but then has to check himself to contain the giddy bit of laughter that threatens to twitch his lips upward and bubble out. That would be embarrassing, for both of them. Of course, her admission was pleasing to him, confirming his earlier thought that she finds comfort in his presence. He is so glad to hear it. But, it's the way it sounds like she's blaming him for her lack of sleep. Like she's mad or worried that saying the words out loud is a bad thing. "I missed you too, love. I'll try to be better in the future." Okay, so the amusement bled through into his tone, and now there is a bit of a crook in his lips. It's not a joke, he did miss her, and hated- even for a night- to be away with the thought that there was this distance between them, physical and emotional.
Breathing through the bit of hangover from his bender, Reilly heaves himself up onto his feet, shaking loose the tension in his muscles and the cobwebs from his mind, and a few dried leaves from his mane. He takes that moment to stretch, registering a bit of soreness in his right front leg. As though he'd gotten into a fight with something solid and large. Hm, interesting because he couldn't remember getting into any fights. Ah well, he must have won, because there isn't a scratch on him. Good, then. He yawns and straightens his stance, letting his lids droop to half-mast as he begins to turn his head to look back at her. His ears flick to catch the sound of her throat clearing and his eyes snap to hers at the little question that follows.
"Will you... And his heart thuds softly in anticipation of her words, curious what she is about to ask.
"Are you leaving?"
His chest tightens as he searches her face, sees her trying to mask the worry laying just under the surface. All he wants in that moment is to be closer to her, tell her exactly everything that she makes him feel, promise her the world. But that would be too much so soon. Instead, he lets his face soften and turns his body to align with hers and settles down again beside her. Close, but not touching. It has to be her choice, he reminds himself. "No, love. I'm not goin' anywhere. My home is here now." With you. His head leans toward hers. Not touching, though he wants to. A small smile lifts his lips, and drowsiness lowers his lids, though not closing. He simply lays there and revels in the nearness of her beside him. His gaze lazily sweeps her face, her body and the way she looks as though she'd fit right into his side. Sexy, petite woman she is. "You should know how beautiful you are, Lace. Truly." His smile remains, as his gaze locks with hers. Damn, he aches to touch her. To be so close without contact is a torture in itself that he can hardly stand, but he will not ask it of her. Will not take anything from her for his own selfish wants. She deserves better than that. Pulling his head back some, in case she requires more space, he slowly lets his eyes drift closed.
