George
It was as he looked up at her that he realized that something wasn't right, that there was something very much akin to fear in her eyes. And as soon as she said no, he was on his feet, hands at his sides, watching her with concerned eyes (was it him? was it something he'd done? something he hadn't? But then she was pressing her face into his chest, and he was wrapping his arms around her, holding her close while stroking her hair. While he was still worried that it was him, there was a larger part of him that was realizing that something else was going on.
She tried to explain, and he wasn't sure he entirely understood, but what little information he was able to glean had him pulling back from her just enough that he could raise a hand to her chin, gently asking her to look at him. "Hotaru, you never have to apologize," he told her softly, his eyes piercing in their intensity. "Not for something like this." He paused for a moment, mulling over his next words. "We can take this at whatever pace you're comfortable with," he assured her, searching her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."
She tried to explain, and he wasn't sure he entirely understood, but what little information he was able to glean had him pulling back from her just enough that he could raise a hand to her chin, gently asking her to look at him. "Hotaru, you never have to apologize," he told her softly, his eyes piercing in their intensity. "Not for something like this." He paused for a moment, mulling over his next words. "We can take this at whatever pace you're comfortable with," he assured her, searching her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."
