[ His fingers dip gently into the small of her back. She's not changed a lot over the years, and he likes that about her. Still the same height, still the same pink hair. Though he does enjoy the small fox that occasionally darts around his forest or curls under the sunlight. It suits her, that form.
He smiles a little. ] Me, too.
[ It's a welcome ache. And he won't deny he likes to know he's been missed. Time is strange when it's spun for so long; he's come across his share of others who've closed themselves off. He glimpses shades of himself in them, and he knows that were it not for his family, he might've fallen down the same path. Or stayed down that path, perhaps. He was there once before, though the edges of those memories have blurred now.
As he pushes her onto her back, a dense patch of grass sprouts beneath her like a blanket. He glides one hand up her leg. The sun has warmed her skin, and he can feel it against his back. ]
no subject
He smiles a little. ] Me, too.
[ It's a welcome ache. And he won't deny he likes to know he's been missed. Time is strange when it's spun for so long; he's come across his share of others who've closed themselves off. He glimpses shades of himself in them, and he knows that were it not for his family, he might've fallen down the same path. Or stayed down that path, perhaps. He was there once before, though the edges of those memories have blurred now.
As he pushes her onto her back, a dense patch of grass sprouts beneath her like a blanket. He glides one hand up her leg. The sun has warmed her skin, and he can feel it against his back. ]