[She says it so he doesn't have to. Because he can't, because it would be too much, because shaping it into words makes it real and strips away the ambiguity that bottling it up inside would still afford him. She kisses each of his fingertips, carefully, following the same rhythm that her little squeezes of his hand did before.
This is a dance, almost. Everything in its time, everything measured and following the unspoken cadence. There's predictability in a dance. Music doesn't need the eyes; most of the time, it's even better without them.]
no subject
[She says it so he doesn't have to. Because he can't, because it would be too much, because shaping it into words makes it real and strips away the ambiguity that bottling it up inside would still afford him. She kisses each of his fingertips, carefully, following the same rhythm that her little squeezes of his hand did before.
This is a dance, almost. Everything in its time, everything measured and following the unspoken cadence. There's predictability in a dance. Music doesn't need the eyes; most of the time, it's even better without them.]
Will you tell me what you fear most?