SILVER \ FOX.

“…I have no idea what this is about, but at this point, I’m too afraid to ask.”

“It does. It’s a light, tingly sensation,” she adds her own adjectives for it. Whether love was new to him or not, she couldn’t help but feel oh so happy to hear him say so. Sometimes he was so hard to read, his tendency to say the bare minimum often leaving her to guess on so much. 

Stretching her hands in front of her towards him, she opens her palms upwards in a silent desire for him to hold them. Where would they go from here, she wondered. She was looking forward to wherever regardless of how long it would last. 

      To have his feelings recognized by someone else made Francis smile a little, it made the corners of mouth twitch. He wasn’t exactly common with a smile. For such, he felt too conscious about his lips, and how he has always struggled more with his cleft lip, than he had felt confident about looking in a mirror. But her tenderness washed away his insecurities for a moment. 

     Dolarhyde could forget about all else for a moment, when he reached out his own hands towards hers. They remained ghosting above her palms for a breath’s moment, before he could hold her hands in his own. They were smaller, but felt much softer -- they were clean, and the thought of staining them with the blood of the Dragon almost made Francis pull them away again. But at that same moment, their eyes met and though she could not see his, Dolarhyde could see hers and he saw it was all still good. 

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