WHO: Okada Izou and "friends". WHAT: Catch-all for TDM/event prompts. WHERE: Various sites around Kyoto. WHEN: Most of May. WARNINGS: Animal gore, BDSM talk???. Will update as necessary.
( it's his first time hearing march snap at someone like that, and before he can stare awestruck at how that outfit hugs tightly to her curves, izou feels his heart rate accelerate over the aggression in her tone. damn. she'd always been stubborn and pretty formidable, but...
well, no. now's not the time to stand here in a daze over her, the few brain cells that are still chugging as hard as they can in his stupor doing their best to keep him on track. )
Th-... what'd you just—
( he takes hold of the stranger's tie, pulling him closer to izou's face without much resistance.
there he can show teeth, can angle his chin in threateningly and in that low rasp of his that's beginning to slur: )
How 'bout I tie you, to the... top 'a this building here? Leave you to starve.
( let him go? just like that, after he was so vulgar towards the woman izou fancies, like, a good deal?
... but her irritated plea doesn't fall on deaf ears. rather, it's like someone pulls on his leash with the way izou releases his grip, giving the guy a final message in the form of a clumsy shove. a shove that actually sets izou off-balance, an arm reaching forward through the thin air in an attempt to grab something and steady himself again—a lamp-pole, maybe. march's shoulder. whatever's nearby.
a moment of silence for the poor, confused stranger. izou doesn't give a shit where he's off too, though, as long as he's gone. )
Where're... ( find your words, boy— ) back to the, hotel?
( the dangerous scowl from just moments ago fades into one that's almost... apologetic, the corners of his mouth turning down. )
[ He gets her shoulder, because she's already reaching out to steady him and the civilian wastes no time in getting gone to have a death wish somewhere else. And that leaves the two of them, March resting a hand on Izou's back as he grips her shoulder. ]
We should probably head back to the hotel, yeah. And...
[ She trails off, peering at him. That edge of anger has similarly faded, leaving concern in its place. ]
... No, I'm not mad. Honestly, if you hadn't showed up, I was about to punch him myself. You saved him a few bruises.
[ She pauses, thoughtfully. ]
Are you good to walk or do you want to sit down for a second?
( is all he says at first, far more sloshed than the last time he made a fool of himself in front of her along that riverbank. a time that felt so long ago and yet here she is, still, offering herself as support as the shoulder catches him.
again... is he just gonna let her endure what he perceives as the burden of leading him around again? his mouth itches to say something far more personal than last time, maybe a "don't worry" or "i've got this", but his lips can't seem to parse the phrases proper, his body fighting his mind when it comes to being so close. because if he had to be anywhere in this glimmering gold far from headquarters... it might as well be with someone that makes his smile brighter. someone that has him seeing a clear sky beyond the tip of his blade.
but that lingering feeling that he really ought to handle this himself surfaces like an open wound. )
Walk. It, ain't too far...
( he's just gonna... point towards the wrong side of the street, and then, after a moment's pause, correct himself. )
And then nudges him, moving to maneuver him to the edge of the curb where she can sit them both down in a surprisingly no-nonsense manner for someone dressed up in dream-like colors and accessories. ]
Just for a second, then. I know you're probably feeling fine now [ is he ] but you're in for a rough time with the hangover tomorrow. Maybe I can try to heal what I can and take the edge off ahead of time?
[ She has no idea. Maybe healing potential alcohol poisoning counts? ]
( down they go. the surface of the curb feels hard, and it stands out even more than it would to him than usual. )
Sittin' on the side of the... road, with a drunk man. Not the best... night, I bet.
( and it's then when it occurs to him that he can get a look at her proper, can steal a real glance at those eyes full of life even this late and feel his heart tip forward awkwardly. )
You... look real good in that. All, flower-like and...
( a hand reaches up, hesitant. pulls back, but then changes its mind to tuck pink hair behind an ear facing him. )
[ There's heat rising to her face as she ducks her head a little, including that one ear also tipped in pink--but before he can draw his hand back, March reaches out to catch it. Maybe it's a safer thing to touch than his face, given what had happened the last time she'd healed him like that. ]
Thanks. It's...
[ She trails off to concentrate, to send the warm, soothing tingle of healing through their joined hands to see if that will help at all. ]
Not exactly my idea of the best night, but you're my favorite drunk man and I'd rather not let you deal with things on your own.
... No matter how many times you try to do that. [ A tad pointedly. ]
( he beams, a little confused and a little excited.
holding hands once again, albeit for the purpose of... of... what was the purpose again? something to do with his head, or maybe... it doesn't really matter, to think too hard on it. he's got all his focus in trying to stay still. he can ponder on whether or not the warmth pooling from her hand is actually going to help in a moment or so. )
Ever notice, how much smaller yer hands are... 'pared to mine. Softer. But, I... I'm fond of it. An' I'll keep ya warm with 'em... for as long as you, want me to.
( all the little things are starting to tumble out his mouth, rough fingers trying to intertwine with hers in the worst way possible. )
[ ... Oh, he's definitely worse off than the night on the bridge. And she'd thought, briefly, if she did run into him tonight, maybe she should--
But no. If she's going to talk to him about something like that, she's going to do it while he's sober, because she's read more than enough books where someone is so drunk they don't remember half of what happened during that period. Heck, Malkuth's memories only proved that it wasn't just a thing of fiction.
And it doesn't sit right with her to do that anyway, so she keeps certain thoughts to herself for the moment as their fingers end up... more as a tangle than anything else. It's still contact, she can still heal like this. ]
I appreciate it, but you know I don't run as warm, right? You're okay with my hands being colder?
[ She'd said as much, that she liked his hands. And he's apparently just as okay with hers, but she's aware of the temperature difference. The gloves help now, maybe. ]
Known that, for a while now. Why they're prob'ly so frigid, even.
( the soothing warmth, the thrum of his own blood reaching his ears.
it's a firm squeeze of the wrist from a week ago that lingers harder, reminding him of her anxieties, every piece of contact march thinks fit to offer him like crumbs to a dog starving for affection. )
... Must've been, lonely. Lonely in there. When ya can't see the sky, or... or feel the sun. Driftin' off into who knows where.
( he trails off in his stupor, a tension building in his shoulders despite being so loose-lipped. because he doesn't entirely know what it's like, as a man with a past. a family he can recall. childhood friends that lived and died and betrayed each other for all those causes they believed in. march has her friends here, has her home somewhere else... but from their last conversation, it was clear that more was haunting her.
his drunken little brain is working overtime, and he barks out the following statement with teeth bared as the alcohol does its magic: )
You could, freeze me solid and I... I still wouldn't let go.
[ Her fingers twitch, lightly; a sign of surprise.
Was it lonely in there? She doesn't know. She'd been unconscious. She doesn't even know how long she'd been drifting in space, in that tomb of ice, until the crew of the Astral Express had found her. When March tries to think back on it, all she can remember at the time is this... nothingness. She might not have even dreamed, just floated, nonexistent to anyone's perception including her own until spotted.
That sort of thing solidifies in her nightmares sometimes. That her being found was the dream. That all of this is a dream. That she's still trapped somewhere in a cold and unforgiving expanse, waiting for someone to find her.
She doesn't ever want to end up like that again. Even as fleeting an existence as his might be, it's so much warmer and preferable than her origins.
But Izou's statement startles a laugh out of her, even though it's fond. ]
Why are you saying that like you're ready to fight me about it? I believe you! Though I promise I wouldn't actually do that to you.
( —serious about you, but at least that dies on the tip on his tongue.
and he knows she isn't laughing at him, really, but it still hurts him in all his current fragility. his weak, weak feelings. he can tell himself to get over it, to just focus on the soft puff of her laugh and how cute it is, but...
izou frowns.
then does the unexpected, in pulling her directly towards his chest, a large palm pressing into her back as to try and push her head towards wherever his heart might be. somewhere... this way? maybe? or maybe over here. like he's a doctor or some shit. )
You can tell, by how... by how steady my heartbeat is. Listen reaaal good.
( it's not actually steady, by the way. he's just convinced it is. )
Unexpected indeed, from the way she gasps, higher and sudden when he just suddenly pulls her in?? Her other hand grasps for balance, grazing his side for a few seconds until it finds purchase in his shirt and she can't hear much except for the sound of her own heart ricocheting at the change in position.
Steady? Right. Sure. Except even as March wills her own to calm down, his own isn't exactly an inspiration on that front. It sounds just as erratic as hers does. ]
I, um.
[ Well, he can't see how flustered her expression is from this angle, right? ]
... Can definitely tell you're serious. [ Not from the heartbeat. Sorry, Izou. ]
there's a moment of silence from him as he relishes in an accomplishment that isn't really accomplishing anything, unable to see her expression just like she isn't able to see is.
but it doesn't last long. his hand is stilled just below the arch of her back, and like the noticeable sensation of the concrete of the curb underneath them, the smooth sensation of her skin stands out the more. alarmingly so, even, to the point where izou forgets that they're in public underneath all the glim and glam outside. forgets as he takes a deep, slow breath, the buzz of people walking by hushing magically in all his immediate drunken focus on the only thing that matters at the moment, and that is... his sudden realization of what he just did, and that the soft squish of her body is pressed against the hard plane of his chest.
he can barely wiggle a thought past it, knowing he shouldn't have a sense for it at the moment but enjoying it all the same. he should force a laugh. separate them, let her go, because things weren't... things weren't this close between them, were they? he wished they were, in all his clumsiness. wishes he knew what that happiness was like.
and so his head tips forward a bit, eyes half-lidded as that same hand trails soothingly light up the length of her spine. )
[ March likes at least a little of her upper back exposed, or maybe it's just that the outfits she favors are almost all like that and she's gotten used to it. This dress's back dips down much further and she's acutely aware of it when Izou's hand ever-so-lightly trails a path up along her skin, a sensation that slightly tickles but also leaves heat in its wake.
Despite that, the reaction comes in the form of a shiver, a soft noise, and she's almost afraid to try to lift her head, to see what kind of expression he's making right now, even if he also sees what kind of expression she's making right now--
But then a group of drunk 20-somethings strolling by break into raucous laughter, punctuated by a wolf whistle or two, and March suddenly jerks upright, color high in her cheeks. ]
Right! Right. H-how're you feeling now?? Still wanna sit for a little longer or try heading back now?
[ She doesn't know how she sounds, except higher-pitched than usual. The blood still feels like it's roaring in her ears. ]
( the upright jerk is so sudden that it catches him right in the chin, startling him out of that growing want for her. )
Y-You...
( even in his stupor, izou knows she didn't mean it, but he still clutches his own jaw in shock and pain.
shit... why were they sitting on this curb again? he'd quickly forgotten, march's question like fingers being snapped directly in front of his face. his brow furrows in confusion, because he was heading back for the hotel in the first place when he ran into her... her and that asshole trying to make a move on his—
... on his good friend, and his voice wavers with an embarrassing thickness. too many thoughts and too much drink. )
I... I think I'm good t'get there.
( cue him signaling with a hand on her shoulder that he's gonna try to stand up, albeit a bit wobbly. )
[ She'd do the thing where she's touchy-feely and apologetic with her gestures, but his hand on her back has taught her that is a Bad Idea right now, so March just kind of makes those gestures closer to her chest and not with her hands fluttering on his face. The guilt is palpable, but she stays where she is now, letting him grasp her shoulder. If it helps with his balance, so much the better. If it doesn't, she'll rise slowly anyway to continue to be support. ]
... Okay. [ It's said a little meekly. Not that she would have wanted things to... ... well, who-knew-what in public, but she still feels at least a little bad for slamming her head into his chin with absolutely no warning whatsoever. ]
( the shoulder is well enough of a support, and eventually they're righted and ready to go.
only izou releases his grip, willing to be unstable on his feet for a moment as he timidly extends a hand behind him, expectant. seemingly waiting for something.
before march or anyone else can slip their hand into his, though, he glances over a stiff shoulder, clearly trying to concentrate on what he's about to say with how tense he is. )
You... said yer hard to lose, but I. I don't, wanna chance it.
[ It takes a few seconds--because honestly, March is so used to him either catching her by the wrist or sticking his hand out for hers for her own sake, and even though that's slowly been changing to the point where he can (drunkenly) talk about how he likes her hands, it still catches her by surprise when he offers it and waits.
But by the time he gets to "chance", her hand is already reaching out, clasping his firmly. Her smile's just as warm, for all that she'll continue to feel at least a tad guilty for chin assault. ]
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well, no. now's not the time to stand here in a daze over her, the few brain cells that are still chugging as hard as they can in his stupor doing their best to keep him on track. )
Th-... what'd you just—
( he takes hold of the stranger's tie, pulling him closer to izou's face without much resistance.
there he can show teeth, can angle his chin in threateningly and in that low rasp of his that's beginning to slur: )
How 'bout I tie you, to the... top 'a this building here? Leave you to starve.
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"Yeah... sure... leave me to die. Not like anyone'd miss me." ]
Izou...
[ Like whew March is still pissed off, but she can at least tap his wrist while he's holding this guy up by the tie. ]
... Look, let's just go? I don't think he's exactly in his right mind. And even if he was, he's not worth the trouble.
[ And you should probably not be tying anyone to buildings at this level of drunk. ]
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... but her irritated plea doesn't fall on deaf ears. rather, it's like someone pulls on his leash with the way izou releases his grip, giving the guy a final message in the form of a clumsy shove. a shove that actually sets izou off-balance, an arm reaching forward through the thin air in an attempt to grab something and steady himself again—a lamp-pole, maybe. march's shoulder. whatever's nearby.
a moment of silence for the poor, confused stranger. izou doesn't give a shit where he's off too, though, as long as he's gone. )
Where're... ( find your words, boy— ) back to the, hotel?
( the dangerous scowl from just moments ago fades into one that's almost... apologetic, the corners of his mouth turning down. )
You ain't, mad at me for that... are you?
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We should probably head back to the hotel, yeah. And...
[ She trails off, peering at him. That edge of anger has similarly faded, leaving concern in its place. ]
... No, I'm not mad. Honestly, if you hadn't showed up, I was about to punch him myself. You saved him a few bruises.
[ She pauses, thoughtfully. ]
Are you good to walk or do you want to sit down for a second?
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( is all he says at first, far more sloshed than the last time he made a fool of himself in front of her along that riverbank. a time that felt so long ago and yet here she is, still, offering herself as support as the shoulder catches him.
again... is he just gonna let her endure what he perceives as the burden of leading him around again? his mouth itches to say something far more personal than last time, maybe a "don't worry" or "i've got this", but his lips can't seem to parse the phrases proper, his body fighting his mind when it comes to being so close. because if he had to be anywhere in this glimmering gold far from headquarters... it might as well be with someone that makes his smile brighter. someone that has him seeing a clear sky beyond the tip of his blade.
but that lingering feeling that he really ought to handle this himself surfaces like an open wound. )
Walk. It, ain't too far...
( he's just gonna... point towards the wrong side of the street, and then, after a moment's pause, correct himself. )
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And then nudges him, moving to maneuver him to the edge of the curb where she can sit them both down in a surprisingly no-nonsense manner for someone dressed up in dream-like colors and accessories. ]
Just for a second, then. I know you're probably feeling fine now [ is he ] but you're in for a rough time with the hangover tomorrow. Maybe I can try to heal what I can and take the edge off ahead of time?
[ She has no idea. Maybe healing potential alcohol poisoning counts? ]
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Sittin' on the side of the... road, with a drunk man. Not the best... night, I bet.
( and it's then when it occurs to him that he can get a look at her proper, can steal a real glance at those eyes full of life even this late and feel his heart tip forward awkwardly. )
You... look real good in that. All, flower-like and...
( a hand reaches up, hesitant. pulls back, but then changes its mind to tuck pink hair behind an ear facing him. )
Pretty.
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Thanks. It's...
[ She trails off to concentrate, to send the warm, soothing tingle of healing through their joined hands to see if that will help at all. ]
Not exactly my idea of the best night, but you're my favorite drunk man and I'd rather not let you deal with things on your own.
... No matter how many times you try to do that. [ A tad pointedly. ]
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( he beams, a little confused and a little excited.
holding hands once again, albeit for the purpose of... of... what was the purpose again? something to do with his head, or maybe... it doesn't really matter, to think too hard on it. he's got all his focus in trying to stay still. he can ponder on whether or not the warmth pooling from her hand is actually going to help in a moment or so. )
Ever notice, how much smaller yer hands are... 'pared to mine. Softer. But, I... I'm fond of it. An' I'll keep ya warm with 'em... for as long as you, want me to.
( all the little things are starting to tumble out his mouth, rough fingers trying to intertwine with hers in the worst way possible. )
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But no. If she's going to talk to him about something like that, she's going to do it while he's sober, because she's read more than enough books where someone is so drunk they don't remember half of what happened during that period. Heck, Malkuth's memories only proved that it wasn't just a thing of fiction.
And it doesn't sit right with her to do that anyway, so she keeps certain thoughts to herself for the moment as their fingers end up... more as a tangle than anything else. It's still contact, she can still heal like this. ]
I appreciate it, but you know I don't run as warm, right? You're okay with my hands being colder?
[ She'd said as much, that she liked his hands. And he's apparently just as okay with hers, but she's aware of the temperature difference. The gloves help now, maybe. ]
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( the soothing warmth, the thrum of his own blood reaching his ears.
it's a firm squeeze of the wrist from a week ago that lingers harder, reminding him of her anxieties, every piece of contact march thinks fit to offer him like crumbs to a dog starving for affection. )
... Must've been, lonely. Lonely in there. When ya can't see the sky, or... or feel the sun. Driftin' off into who knows where.
( he trails off in his stupor, a tension building in his shoulders despite being so loose-lipped. because he doesn't entirely know what it's like, as a man with a past. a family he can recall. childhood friends that lived and died and betrayed each other for all those causes they believed in. march has her friends here, has her home somewhere else... but from their last conversation, it was clear that more was haunting her.
his drunken little brain is working overtime, and he barks out the following statement with teeth bared as the alcohol does its magic: )
You could, freeze me solid and I... I still wouldn't let go.
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Was it lonely in there? She doesn't know. She'd been unconscious. She doesn't even know how long she'd been drifting in space, in that tomb of ice, until the crew of the Astral Express had found her. When March tries to think back on it, all she can remember at the time is this... nothingness. She might not have even dreamed, just floated, nonexistent to anyone's perception including her own until spotted.
That sort of thing solidifies in her nightmares sometimes. That her being found was the dream. That all of this is a dream. That she's still trapped somewhere in a cold and unforgiving expanse, waiting for someone to find her.
She doesn't ever want to end up like that again. Even as fleeting an existence as his might be, it's so much warmer and preferable than her origins.
But Izou's statement startles a laugh out of her, even though it's fond. ]
Why are you saying that like you're ready to fight me about it? I believe you! Though I promise I wouldn't actually do that to you.
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( —serious about you, but at least that dies on the tip on his tongue.
and he knows she isn't laughing at him, really, but it still hurts him in all his current fragility. his weak, weak feelings. he can tell himself to get over it, to just focus on the soft puff of her laugh and how cute it is, but...
izou frowns.
then does the unexpected, in pulling her directly towards his chest, a large palm pressing into her back as to try and push her head towards wherever his heart might be. somewhere... this way? maybe? or maybe over here. like he's a doctor or some shit. )
You can tell, by how... by how steady my heartbeat is. Listen reaaal good.
( it's not actually steady, by the way. he's just convinced it is. )
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Unexpected indeed, from the way she gasps, higher and sudden when he just suddenly pulls her in?? Her other hand grasps for balance, grazing his side for a few seconds until it finds purchase in his shirt and she can't hear much except for the sound of her own heart ricocheting at the change in position.
Steady? Right. Sure. Except even as March wills her own to calm down, his own isn't exactly an inspiration on that front. It sounds just as erratic as hers does. ]
I, um.
[ Well, he can't see how flustered her expression is from this angle, right? ]
... Can definitely tell you're serious. [ Not from the heartbeat. Sorry, Izou. ]
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there's a moment of silence from him as he relishes in an accomplishment that isn't really accomplishing anything, unable to see her expression just like she isn't able to see is.
but it doesn't last long. his hand is stilled just below the arch of her back, and like the noticeable sensation of the concrete of the curb underneath them, the smooth sensation of her skin stands out the more. alarmingly so, even, to the point where izou forgets that they're in public underneath all the glim and glam outside. forgets as he takes a deep, slow breath, the buzz of people walking by hushing magically in all his immediate drunken focus on the only thing that matters at the moment, and that is... his sudden realization of what he just did, and that the soft squish of her body is pressed against the hard plane of his chest.
he can barely wiggle a thought past it, knowing he shouldn't have a sense for it at the moment but enjoying it all the same. he should force a laugh. separate them, let her go, because things weren't... things weren't this close between them, were they? he wished they were, in all his clumsiness. wishes he knew what that happiness was like.
and so his head tips forward a bit, eyes half-lidded as that same hand trails soothingly light up the length of her spine. )
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Despite that, the reaction comes in the form of a shiver, a soft noise, and she's almost afraid to try to lift her head, to see what kind of expression he's making right now, even if he also sees what kind of expression she's making right now--
But then a group of drunk 20-somethings strolling by break into raucous laughter, punctuated by a wolf whistle or two, and March suddenly jerks upright, color high in her cheeks. ]
Right! Right. H-how're you feeling now?? Still wanna sit for a little longer or try heading back now?
[ She doesn't know how she sounds, except higher-pitched than usual. The blood still feels like it's roaring in her ears. ]
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Y-You...
( even in his stupor, izou knows she didn't mean it, but he still clutches his own jaw in shock and pain.
shit... why were they sitting on this curb again? he'd quickly forgotten, march's question like fingers being snapped directly in front of his face. his brow furrows in confusion, because he was heading back for the hotel in the first place when he ran into her... her and that asshole trying to make a move on his—
... on his good friend, and his voice wavers with an embarrassing thickness. too many thoughts and too much drink. )
I... I think I'm good t'get there.
( cue him signaling with a hand on her shoulder that he's gonna try to stand up, albeit a bit wobbly. )
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[ She'd do the thing where she's touchy-feely and apologetic with her gestures, but his hand on her back has taught her that is a Bad Idea right now, so March just kind of makes those gestures closer to her chest and not with her hands fluttering on his face. The guilt is palpable, but she stays where she is now, letting him grasp her shoulder. If it helps with his balance, so much the better. If it doesn't, she'll rise slowly anyway to continue to be support. ]
... Okay. [ It's said a little meekly. Not that she would have wanted things to... ... well, who-knew-what in public, but she still feels at least a little bad for slamming her head into his chin with absolutely no warning whatsoever. ]
We're not that far from it, anyway.
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( the shoulder is well enough of a support, and eventually they're righted and ready to go.
only izou releases his grip, willing to be unstable on his feet for a moment as he timidly extends a hand behind him, expectant. seemingly waiting for something.
before march or anyone else can slip their hand into his, though, he glances over a stiff shoulder, clearly trying to concentrate on what he's about to say with how tense he is. )
You... said yer hard to lose, but I. I don't, wanna chance it.
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But by the time he gets to "chance", her hand is already reaching out, clasping his firmly. Her smile's just as warm, for all that she'll continue to feel at least a tad guilty for chin assault. ]
No risk now, then. Just don't let go.
[ And she won't, either. ]