[His smile pulls wider as she tugs him forward; their hands fit together easily, as though they were made for it, and he can feel the shift in the air as her spirits lift, burdens eased as he joins her.]
Given my own great love of stories, I can think of no greater compliment.
[He squeezes her hands as he steps forward to close the distance between them— there had been no question of how they felt for one another, even though they had left it unsaid, but he feels as though the future, uncertain though it may be, is beginning to take shape. He knows what he wants it to be, what he wants to fight for— and he knows that he won't be allowing himself to settle for a future without her in it.]
Our favorite stories are always the ones we cherish for years to come, yes? It is my dearest wish to be the sort that endures and stands the test of time.
no subject
Given my own great love of stories, I can think of no greater compliment.
[He squeezes her hands as he steps forward to close the distance between them— there had been no question of how they felt for one another, even though they had left it unsaid, but he feels as though the future, uncertain though it may be, is beginning to take shape. He knows what he wants it to be, what he wants to fight for— and he knows that he won't be allowing himself to settle for a future without her in it.]
Our favorite stories are always the ones we cherish for years to come, yes? It is my dearest wish to be the sort that endures and stands the test of time.