( Unfortunately for Connor, he might find himself there for a while. Letting herself feel the comfort and reassurance he's giving, her form sags more into his, like a long-held breath finally being exhaled.
To nip any worries he may have in the bud, her smile mirrors his own. It still feels good to smile. When it's a real smile. A smile that finds life itself. Her fingertips lightly trace over his lips. The dose of tactile input isn't needed at all - his smile is committed to memory without it - but that, too, feels good. To gently touch another being without analysing it to the point of absurdity. Without tearing herself to shreds over it. )
It makes me so happy to know you still see me.
( A woefully lacklustre way to describe it. But it shall have to suffice. )
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To nip any worries he may have in the bud, her smile mirrors his own. It still feels good to smile. When it's a real smile. A smile that finds life itself. Her fingertips lightly trace over his lips. The dose of tactile input isn't needed at all - his smile is committed to memory without it - but that, too, feels good. To gently touch another being without analysing it to the point of absurdity. Without tearing herself to shreds over it. )
It makes me so happy to know you still see me.
( A woefully lacklustre way to describe it. But it shall have to suffice. )