[ That contentment ripples through him again, and in spite of it all, he settles a little more comfortably, lets out another quiet breath. His fingers twitch toward her of their own accord as she leans against the mattress – not quite touching. She's a bit too far away to make contact without stretching. His head tips back a little, and the words fall from his lips before he can think on them: ]
Feels nice when you're close.
[ Something he would've been too ashamed to voice, were he not doped to the gills, but it seems so easy to express now. It's as much an answer to her unspoken question as it is an admission – he finds himself begrudgingly appreciating the benefits, even if he's still terrified by the weight of it. His eyes slip shut, and he enjoys that warmth as much as he can – a feeling so alien to him until recently. ]
Don't— don't much like when you're gone.
Doesn't feel— [ he struggles for the word for a few seconds and settles on ] —right.
no subject
Feels nice when you're close.
[ Something he would've been too ashamed to voice, were he not doped to the gills, but it seems so easy to express now. It's as much an answer to her unspoken question as it is an admission – he finds himself begrudgingly appreciating the benefits, even if he's still terrified by the weight of it. His eyes slip shut, and he enjoys that warmth as much as he can – a feeling so alien to him until recently. ]
Don't— don't much like when you're gone.
Doesn't feel— [ he struggles for the word for a few seconds and settles on ] —right.