[He laughs softly as she curls into him, gladly adjusting his posture for her as she lowers her arms.]
Is that so? Well. [He tuts, teasingly.] We are up rather late.
[Rather than disrupt their current arrangement, he raises a hand just enough to wave and it and bid the bed to conform to their needs, instead; the two of them are now nestled comfortably beneath the soft, richly plum-colored duvet. No need to risk getting cold.]
That's what I get for agreeing to stay up late I suppose.
[She's the most wry. Now that they're comfortably covered, Amelia turns around so that she's facing Gale directly. Contrary to her brusque remarks, her eyes are soft when looking into his.]
[His own smile softens as she locks eyes with him, and he leans in to press his brow against hers, letting the tips of their noses brush as he takes the side of her face in his hand, fingers easily entangling themselves in her hair.]
You are more than worth waiting for.
[He would have waited forever, if she'd needed it, though saying so aloud might be a bit much for her.]
Thank you for trusting me. [With this. With her story. With her heart.] I'll ensure that trust is not misplaced.
[The tenderness contrasts the minutes beforehand; it's befuddling especially after being so long without, but she isn't going to shy away from the comfort his touch gives her. Her fingers reach up in turn, tracing the outline of his beard.]
[It is remarkable, really, how something so many people take for granted— the simple act of human touch— can bring one so much comfort. These quiet moments following their impassioned entanglement are just as important, just as precious, and he turns his head just enough to place a chaste kiss against the inside of her wrist as she runs her fingers along the edge of his beard.]
I should hope not, otherwise my hopes of starting the new year by waking beside you would be dashed.
[There's a mirthful upturn at one corner of his mouth, and he tips his chin upwards just enough to press a kiss against her forehead, followed by the corner of her mouth.]
May you have the sweetest of dreams. I will be here when you wake.
[Sleep, he thinks, will come easily tonight— for the first time in a long, long while.]
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Is that so? Well. [He tuts, teasingly.] We are up rather late.
[Rather than disrupt their current arrangement, he raises a hand just enough to wave and it and bid the bed to conform to their needs, instead; the two of them are now nestled comfortably beneath the soft, richly plum-colored duvet. No need to risk getting cold.]
There— much better.
no subject
[She's the most wry. Now that they're comfortably covered, Amelia turns around so that she's facing Gale directly. Contrary to her brusque remarks, her eyes are soft when looking into his.]
... Thank you for waiting. For me, that is.
no subject
You are more than worth waiting for.
[He would have waited forever, if she'd needed it, though saying so aloud might be a bit much for her.]
Thank you for trusting me. [With this. With her story. With her heart.] I'll ensure that trust is not misplaced.
no subject
[The tenderness contrasts the minutes beforehand; it's befuddling especially after being so long without, but she isn't going to shy away from the comfort his touch gives her. Her fingers reach up in turn, tracing the outline of his beard.]
Get some sleep, alright?
[After a second, she adds in a hushed voice.]
I'm not going anywhere.
no subject
I should hope not, otherwise my hopes of starting the new year by waking beside you would be dashed.
[There's a mirthful upturn at one corner of his mouth, and he tips his chin upwards just enough to press a kiss against her forehead, followed by the corner of her mouth.]
May you have the sweetest of dreams. I will be here when you wake.
[Sleep, he thinks, will come easily tonight— for the first time in a long, long while.]