[ When she turns back around, she'll find him wearing a weary but fond smile, hands setting gently onto her waist once again as she tips her head back to wash out the shampoo. It feels so utterly profound, somehow, to share such a simple thing as a shower with her, to help her wash away the physical reminders of everything this illness has tried to take from them, their actions a symbol of everything it could not. ]
Yeah, it does.
[ How badly he aches to kiss her, to lose all sense of everything in her kiss, to push aside the world for a few moments to express his love to her in a way he hasn't for what feels like ages. But he won't. Not when they've come this far without him getting ill, not with how hard she's worked to keep him that way. They would have the cure soon enough. (They had to.) And when they did, he'd kiss her until they were both senseless and dizzy,
no subject
Yeah, it does.
[ How badly he aches to kiss her, to lose all sense of everything in her kiss, to push aside the world for a few moments to express his love to her in a way he hasn't for what feels like ages. But he won't. Not when they've come this far without him getting ill, not with how hard she's worked to keep him that way. They would have the cure soon enough. (They had to.) And when they did, he'd kiss her until they were both senseless and dizzy,
It won't be long now.
It can't be long now. ]