[He reached up, covering her hand on his chest, fingers curling between hers. She was warm, breathing. They both had pulses, as far as he knew, and she'd forgiven him for scaring her. For attacking her. Cupping her face, he ran his thumb over her cheek, gentler and more tender than he has been since - well, what has it been now, near three weeks since Venice? He exhales slowly, a little smirk playing across his lips.]
I know. [And he leans in to kiss her, full of the quiet affection that he hasn't felt since he realized she'd betrayed him.]
[Spam]
I know. [And he leans in to kiss her, full of the quiet affection that he hasn't felt since he realized she'd betrayed him.]