A warmth in the back of his mind told him how much he'd missed holding her, how much he'd suffered through their fights, her hatred for him. Now, even in this troubled, mournful moment, he felt as if just holding her would make all of his pain go away. He hoped he could somehow, someday, make her troubles leave her, so she could be happy.
Would that mean leaving Alaki for her? Killing Guiseppe if he ever threatened to come between them, if it ever happened? Would he be able to do either?
For that moment, holding her, mourning with her, listening to her voice and not her words... he believed that yes, he could, if it would stop her from dying inside.
He closed his eyes as she spoke again, calling herself a whore but mentioning her past. He'd never heard her story. She'd never heard his, at least from him. They were strangers in that way. He leaned back a bit, pulling her with him.
Tell me everything. I'm listening. He whispered, ears trained to her completely, ignoring the world around them. Spare no details. Let me in. And he left it at that, resting his nose under her cheekbone, eyes closed, ears perked, arms still holding her to his chest. He had no intentions of letting go, especially since the poor girl was naked to the elements otherwise.
