[ it almost undoes him. clorinde steps closer, presses her cheek to his hand, looks up at him with countless unspoken words in her gaze, and—tseng is almost undone, words crowding the tip of his tongue, tripping over themselves to be set free.
he kisses her instead, bringing his free hand up to cup her jaw as their lips press together. it's a kiss that's equal parts urgency and tenderness, a way to hold himself back from saying that which might utterly change the course of their relationship, and also a perfect expression of exactly that emotion.
tseng wishes he could say it. even now, as he holds himself back, he knows that he will—that he must, that telling clorinde the truth is no longer optional but rather necessary. however terrifying it is to him, she deserves that much, especially when he can't even promise tomorrow, let alone a year from now.
when they pull apart, their noses still brushing, tseng asks, ] Even if I want you there all the time?
no subject
he kisses her instead, bringing his free hand up to cup her jaw as their lips press together. it's a kiss that's equal parts urgency and tenderness, a way to hold himself back from saying that which might utterly change the course of their relationship, and also a perfect expression of exactly that emotion.
tseng wishes he could say it. even now, as he holds himself back, he knows that he will—that he must, that telling clorinde the truth is no longer optional but rather necessary. however terrifying it is to him, she deserves that much, especially when he can't even promise tomorrow, let alone a year from now.
when they pull apart, their noses still brushing, tseng asks, ] Even if I want you there all the time?