Okay. [ His tone is non-judgmental, non-committal, soft, like anything louder would break the safety of the bubble they're currently building around themselves. His thumb strokes idly back and forth over her stomach, in a mindless, reassuring gesture. ]
If you want to tell me, you can. But you don't have to.
[ He closes his eyes, pushes his nose further into her hair, just smelling strawberries and lilac, the strands silky against his cheek. There's a smile in his voice when he speaks next. ]
If you'd rather, I really can sing you a song. I'm not all bad at it.
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If you want to tell me, you can. But you don't have to.
[ He closes his eyes, pushes his nose further into her hair, just smelling strawberries and lilac, the strands silky against his cheek. There's a smile in his voice when he speaks next. ]
If you'd rather, I really can sing you a song. I'm not all bad at it.