[He closes his eyes as she speaks against the corner of his lips, his own breath catching as his fingers curl just a bit tighter against her waist.]
I wouldn't stop you, if you wanted to.
[He'll never take anything from her that she isn't willing to give, and if she wanted him to stop, to step away, he surely would. It would hurt, to have her turn him away with that sort of finality, but if she wanted to, he would find some way to force himself to accept it, or so he tries to tell himself. But she doesn't want to— that was precisely the problem with all of this, wasn't it?
Neither one of them wants for them to be apart, for this to be over. It's because Aerith believes it to be the right thing to do— or perhaps more precisely, she needs things to be this way, or so he's beginning to think.
He exhales softly, some of the rigidity leaving his shoulders, and he turns his head so that his brow grazes against her temple, his lips still dangerously close to hers.]
no subject
I wouldn't stop you, if you wanted to.
[He'll never take anything from her that she isn't willing to give, and if she wanted him to stop, to step away, he surely would. It would hurt, to have her turn him away with that sort of finality, but if she wanted to, he would find some way to force himself to accept it, or so he tries to tell himself. But she doesn't want to— that was precisely the problem with all of this, wasn't it?
Neither one of them wants for them to be apart, for this to be over. It's because Aerith believes it to be the right thing to do— or perhaps more precisely, she needs things to be this way, or so he's beginning to think.
He exhales softly, some of the rigidity leaving his shoulders, and he turns his head so that his brow grazes against her temple, his lips still dangerously close to hers.]
That's the trouble, isn't it. You don't want to.