[As he starts to fiddle with the buckle of his wristband, she makes the conscious decision to close her eyes — and keeps them closed, listening as the leather rustles and the metal of the latch comes free. It seems a little like he's holding his breath — whether that's physically or just emotionally, it's hard to tell — but when it's all said and done, she tilts her head up and away from his arm, and reopens her eyes to first look toward his face.
He's not looking. It bothers him — well, of course it bothers him. But for a few sleepy moments, she tries to muster up all the soothing calm and reassurance she can, and tries to push it through their connection in his direction. She tries to remember how it felt when he was the one peeling her gloves away, and she was waiting with knowledge of the ugliness hidden beneath them. Tries to remember how much it meant to her that he didn't mind, didn't care. Tries to remember how good she feels when he looks at her starry-eyed, and tries to look at him the same way.
But he's waiting, and so gradually, she looks. There, set into his wrist, is his gemstone — a sapphire. And there, beneath and around it, is...
Ink? Black ink. A tattoo?]
No. It's not weird.
[She nudges up against him, tucking against his side as she gives his fingers a squeeze.]
Nothing's changed. You can feel how I feel, can't you...?
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He's not looking. It bothers him — well, of course it bothers him. But for a few sleepy moments, she tries to muster up all the soothing calm and reassurance she can, and tries to push it through their connection in his direction. She tries to remember how it felt when he was the one peeling her gloves away, and she was waiting with knowledge of the ugliness hidden beneath them. Tries to remember how much it meant to her that he didn't mind, didn't care. Tries to remember how good she feels when he looks at her starry-eyed, and tries to look at him the same way.
But he's waiting, and so gradually, she looks. There, set into his wrist, is his gemstone — a sapphire. And there, beneath and around it, is...
Ink? Black ink. A tattoo?]
No. It's not weird.
[She nudges up against him, tucking against his side as she gives his fingers a squeeze.]
Nothing's changed. You can feel how I feel, can't you...?