Touching Fingers: I want to speak, but lack the words.Boop on the Nose: You’re adorable, you make me happy.

There is something akin to elation that always flares when he reaches out to her, for much of their steps into waters unknown have been with her leading. She knows that he is not very tactile, and she does not wish to rush him-- she will lead slowly, bend and be understanding. 

They both have history, for the landscape is marred with their own personal transgressions and the transgressions that they committed under a banner title, and history has been pushed aside for them to try something new; for them to find some peace in the wild and ever changing landscape that is their small planet. 

So they gave this a try.

Hesitance used to rule their relationship; that was before they were sure something like this would even work. That’s why elation builds in the pit of her stomach, butterflies actually flutter, and she’s not one to be love sick or a woman ruled by love-- there is no domination there, there was no struggle of what needed to be put first in her life. 

So, a smile graces her features when fingers come to hers for the briefest of moments, she does wish to lace her fingers through his, but she takes what she can get-- she keeps the small mementos, these gestures of affection are just for her-- even the small boop to the nose that catches her off guard. 

So she laughs, and takes what she can get, letting knuckles brush across his cheek a thumb gently tracing over skin, only to move to the balls of her toes and slowly lift herself from the ground so lips can dare graze where fingers once were, now fallen to his shoulder to steady her.