[ He huffs out a breath through his nose, fingers finding Kimberly's free hand, toying with her own fingers, just because - he needs something to do, the grounding of her presence next to him. Baby didn't have friends, before Cadelle, and now, he has no idea how he even managed to survive this long without them. Kimberly's become vital to him - like Robbie, and Clary. The missing pieces in his life. ]
I know I'm not the same, but I could still hurt her. Without meaning to. I've hurt -
[ He stops. I've hurt you, he means to say, but it feels pointless to bring it up. They both know it, and moved on. ]
Right. [ If he gets what Kimberly's saying, Sansa's never experience foreplay. Never experienced someone taking their time with her, making sure she is satisfied. Which isn't surprising. ]
She's never had a normal relationship. Normal, in our sense of the word. And she's never had - [ he can't help the slight flush to his cheeks. ] - proper sex. I don't want to be presumptuous, but I think I could probably show her there's more to it than what she knows.
[ He's not here to rehabilitate men in her eyes, but. There's also the fact that he wouldn't mind being the one to show her how good it all can be.
( his words drop in the middle of a sentence, and kimberly knows the train of thought he's on without question. it's guilt, lingering between them, that he's still carrying this many months later. a girl had come between them, a fault in their relationship that had been only somewhat surprising, nobody to blame but sheer inevitability. they'd never been the one and only for each other, but they'd become something else: friends, the kind of genuine ones that kimberly had never had before, that stood by you and supported you even when you couldn't support yourself.
she doesn't bother to correct him. instead, her fingers tangle tightly with his, squeezing reassurance into the touch, holding firm until the conversation picks back up in another direction. )
I don't think we're even working out of the same idea of what dating is. I mean, like... we didn't date, even. Not like, actual dating, anyway. ( they'd gone on dates, sure, but they'd never been exclusive. they hadn't even come close to it. ) I think she just needs somebody to be patient with her, you know?
( she's quiet for a moment, considering, before she smiles broadly in his direction, nudging him with her shoulder. )
I'm sure you can handle whatever her needs are. And stop arguing with me, you are too a catch.
[ He squeezes her fingers with his when she tangles their fingers together, nodding with his jaw clenched. Moving on, sure, but he'll always feel bad for how he handled things, how wrapped up he'd been. He was still so glad Kimberly had found something solid with Robbie, since. ]
Well, patience is a thing I can do. [ He'd shown that ability time and again, here and back home. Sometimes, he couldn't take waiting. But most of the time, it was as normal as breathing, for him.
Wait for the right beat, the right moment, the right person, the right green light, the right turn, the right song. It was part of his life. ]
What do you think her needs are? Besides patience.
no subject
I know I'm not the same, but I could still hurt her. Without meaning to. I've hurt -
[ He stops. I've hurt you, he means to say, but it feels pointless to bring it up. They both know it, and moved on. ]
Right. [ If he gets what Kimberly's saying, Sansa's never experience foreplay. Never experienced someone taking their time with her, making sure she is satisfied. Which isn't surprising. ]
She's never had a normal relationship. Normal, in our sense of the word. And she's never had - [ he can't help the slight flush to his cheeks. ] - proper sex. I don't want to be presumptuous, but I think I could probably show her there's more to it than what she knows.
[ He's not here to rehabilitate men in her eyes, but. There's also the fact that he wouldn't mind being the one to show her how good it all can be.
He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners. ]
Sure, I'm a real catch.
no subject
she doesn't bother to correct him. instead, her fingers tangle tightly with his, squeezing reassurance into the touch, holding firm until the conversation picks back up in another direction. )
I don't think we're even working out of the same idea of what dating is. I mean, like... we didn't date, even. Not like, actual dating, anyway. ( they'd gone on dates, sure, but they'd never been exclusive. they hadn't even come close to it. ) I think she just needs somebody to be patient with her, you know?
( she's quiet for a moment, considering, before she smiles broadly in his direction, nudging him with her shoulder. )
I'm sure you can handle whatever her needs are. And stop arguing with me, you are too a catch.
no subject
Well, patience is a thing I can do. [ He'd shown that ability time and again, here and back home. Sometimes, he couldn't take waiting. But most of the time, it was as normal as breathing, for him.
Wait for the right beat, the right moment, the right person, the right green light, the right turn, the right song. It was part of his life. ]
What do you think her needs are? Besides patience.