It's him. It's not him. It's him, but it's something else. Certainly something exists, and it looks an awful lot like him. Sounds an awful lot like him, except for the subtle ways it doesn't.
The better question might be whether her curiosity edges more toward discomfort or intrigue.
He hums softly at this little correction, a revelation. Some force even greater — does he care enough to ask? Probably not. Destiny, fate, who gives a shit. Divine intervention. Whatever. It's not important now, because it doesn't apply here.
"Wouldn't it have been better the other way? If he chose you? If it was a decision you both made?" He smooths her hair down gently with his palm; tucks the strands gently behind her ear. Grazes his thumb down the slope of her throat. He dips down, brings his lips to her ear to murmur, "I choose you."
no subject
It's him. It's not him. It's him, but it's something else. Certainly something exists, and it looks an awful lot like him. Sounds an awful lot like him, except for the subtle ways it doesn't.
The better question might be whether her curiosity edges more toward discomfort or intrigue.
He hums softly at this little correction, a revelation. Some force even greater — does he care enough to ask? Probably not. Destiny, fate, who gives a shit. Divine intervention. Whatever. It's not important now, because it doesn't apply here.
"Wouldn't it have been better the other way? If he chose you? If it was a decision you both made?" He smooths her hair down gently with his palm; tucks the strands gently behind her ear. Grazes his thumb down the slope of her throat. He dips down, brings his lips to her ear to murmur, "I choose you."