[ And that–being the caretaker of a hope that Byerly needs to speak that softly—makes him feel—what?
Touched. Gutted. Tempted to say yes now, because what was the point of waiting again, or at least to put the whole thinking plan on hold for the night and start again in the morning.
Bastien settles for tightening his grip on Byerly's hand, and on second thought gathering his whole arm a little closer, and leaning his head against his shoulder. Another second and he pivots his cheek against said shoulder to be a little closer to his ear and whispers, like it's a scandalous little secret, ] Me, too.
no subject
Touched. Gutted. Tempted to say yes now, because what was the point of waiting again, or at least to put the whole thinking plan on hold for the night and start again in the morning.
Bastien settles for tightening his grip on Byerly's hand, and on second thought gathering his whole arm a little closer, and leaning his head against his shoulder. Another second and he pivots his cheek against said shoulder to be a little closer to his ear and whispers, like it's a scandalous little secret, ] Me, too.