he can see her mind ticking over, can see her BLOOD BOILING more & more with each passing second. he should have expected this. it was a perfectly VALID reaction, really. still, when her hand takes aim at his face, his reflexes are just as quick. he grabs her wrist, holds it AWAY from his face. the grip isnât tight enough to hurt, but not LOOSE ENOUGH to pull away quite so easily either. â i meanâŚTECHNICALLY, but it wasâŚâ he trails off, brows furrowing slightly. this wasnât really a conversation he wanted to have out in the open right then, but the chances of her going ANYWHERE with him were pretty slim. â it was TOUCH & GO for a little while. â he doesnât know how much she knows about what happened in afghanistan ; whether the news had even reached her AT ALL. the maleâs head drops forward then, tongue dipping out to moisten his lower lip as he gently began to lower her hand. without thinking, he finds their FINGERS LACING, an automatic move ; muscle memory, he supposes. â we can talk about itâŚbut maybe NOT HERE, okay ?? â he glances around them then, eyes shifting towards the sky. dawn was rapidly approaching. he couldnât risk someone else catching up to him right then. â i promise iâll tell you everything. â
         violence is not in her repertoire, self defence perhaps yet, this is not an anger fuelled by hatred, but one of love which is greater than any fury sheâs experienced. intention was not to hurt, just a gesture of her emotions coming forth as to not leave him in the dark ââ as if her expression did not convey it well enough. but no collision came.  in fact it was stopped, quite effortlessly causing a small gasp of shock to pass through her lips. close proximity had chin lifting so eyes could meet,  confusion starling the being as one attempt is made to retrieve her hand; no give. explanation is cryptic, had it been someone else, this gesture of chance would have not been given so lightly. gaze cannot pull itself from his face, the urge to trace along his jawline as did they as young ones resurfaces, though shoved down with annoyance. as his fingers find their rightful place between her own,  a sense of calmness claims her soul; a sense of purpose to be by his side ignites. his apprehension is endearing, as always, she can never stay mad. a free hand, timid in its movement, reaches up;  finger tips trailing over his cheek and then a nod is to follow.  â okay.. but you need to tell me EVERYTHING. â  his former home is vacant she knows this, so she moves away, WITHOUT letting go of his hand.   â my car is this way.. â