[A touch as gentle as a sunbeam, with the uneven edges hewn by experience. A kiss that reminds him of how he crouched before a crackling hearth of long-ago Odense on a winter's day. Hans hears what Edmond wants to say, and his fingers twitch, ever-so-slightly. If reality could only bend their way-- if only this was a fairy tale--
The bottle of whiskey is set on the nearby nightstand, so it doesn't spill. Hans twines his fingers with Edmond's, squeezes to reassure him. Leans in, just a little closer, so he kiss his hand in return.]
I'll be close by. You can visit me anytime.
[He doesn't use the general "you," but the intimate "you" - a soft du filled with concern and fondness.]
no subject
The bottle of whiskey is set on the nearby nightstand, so it doesn't spill. Hans twines his fingers with Edmond's, squeezes to reassure him. Leans in, just a little closer, so he kiss his hand in return.]
I'll be close by. You can visit me anytime.
[He doesn't use the general "you," but the intimate "you" - a soft du filled with concern and fondness.]