Though the bump feels playful, he finds himself hesitating. He does not relish the idea of putting Jill or Joshua in the way of the monsters here, even if they have faced worse. Both are fragile. Both have pushed themselves past what they ought to.
"I could," he says. "In time. Perhaps when he's had more time to recover."
“You understand,” he says, relieved. “I would very much like to spend more time with you both, As much as possible. But perhaps there are better times for that.”
He nods. It's a striking thing to say, and for once –– for one glimmering moment –– he lets himself think it's real. That everything is going to be fine. That they're going to get to live on, in some way, and that he might deserve a little rest.
And he wouldn't have any of it without her.
Clive drops the bags abruptly, the bags hitting the ground with a soft, papery thump. He takes her face between his hands, tilts her face the rest of the way to him, and kisses her hard.
He startles her, but it immediately gives way to a giddy joy. Joy, and relief. He's trying. She knows he doesn't want to be so tense, distracted from the happiness that is right before him, his to grasp.
She returns the kiss enthusiastically, hands on his wrists, squeezing.
"I won't let you forget," she murmurs off his lips. He has family. He has love. He deserves rest.
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"You could invite us to accompany you," she says, lightly bumping his shoulder with her own. "Torgal isn't the only one that remembers how to fight."
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"I could," he says. "In time. Perhaps when he's had more time to recover."
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Even if they're perfectly capable.
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"And when you're out hunting, I hope you know Joshua and I will be looking out for one another."
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Intrusive thought: how will she go out to meet other men, like this? He shakes it off mentally.
“Where else will we take him?”
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Which is another lovely thing to be able to say.
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And he wouldn't have any of it without her.
Clive drops the bags abruptly, the bags hitting the ground with a soft, papery thump. He takes her face between his hands, tilts her face the rest of the way to him, and kisses her hard.
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She returns the kiss enthusiastically, hands on his wrists, squeezing.
"I won't let you forget," she murmurs off his lips. He has family. He has love. He deserves rest.
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“I know you won’t,” he says, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m going to make you happy.”
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"I'm very happy right now," she tells him. "You know how to fill my heart with butterflies."
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"It's always been there. I've known. I'm glad you're finally catching up," she teases.