[ He feels at once hyper aware of everything— where his hands are, how hard his heart's beating, how slow he's breathing until he catches himself and it comes out shaky instead, mixing with the scent of Angela's skin when he breathes it back. The hand on his back, rubbing, soothing. A brief hum next to his ear that he can still hear echoing in his mind when she stops. He wants it to stay, just like this, in this moment, and then next, and the one after, butting heads against his own gut reaction of needing to do something.
Staying like this, but in a way that's okay.
One of his hands leave her side to fumble around to find the edge of the blanket again. Maybe they can do that nap thing. ]
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Staying like this, but in a way that's okay.
One of his hands leave her side to fumble around to find the edge of the blanket again. Maybe they can do that nap thing. ]