It certainly bodes well for perseverance. [ it takes him a moment, his hand in hers, his gaze lingering in hers, and the softening of his smile, to realize how deeply he would like that. at least in the yellow of the firelight the pink rising in his cheeks might be masked, though he doesn't particularly care if it's not. his thumb traces from knuckle to knuckle down of one of her fingers and with a sucked in breath he realizes he should let go, and so he does.
he gestures to the door. ] Will you at least tell me what color you're thinking?
no subject
he gestures to the door. ] Will you at least tell me what color you're thinking?