Honey wherever you go, I know
"What, and deny you my voice?"" The mock shock slides out easy despite the tired undercurrent to his voice. "You wish you'd be that lucky," he winks, because she'd be hearing far more of it than ever before, hopefully not enough to inspire buyer's remorse.
The firm clasp of her fingers in his earns a steady squeeze, because he knows. Much as he'd been cut open today, by her hands no less, she'd not escaped unscathed either. It's part of the appeal of the shower for him, like maybe it could clean off some of the residue that clings as stubborn as the sand, or at least make it feel easier to carry. Together at least, they'd do this together, each of them able to fit back in the pieces where the other couldn't reach, until everything that had fallen loose somewhat resembled the cover of the box again. Might be a little scuffed, some of the cardboard peeking through paint, maybe a layer stripped free on a corner, but recognizable and loved as much for the wear as despite it. All of it starting with those hands, again.
"I love your hands," he declares simply as the thoughts drift past, a smile tossed over at her as they walk. He lifts their linked arm up, placing a kiss along the curl of her knuckles before freeing it back to the swing of their stride.
Any further explanation he might have offered is consumed with an excited grin in response to her poorly stocked pantry. "You know I'd never pass down gummy worms." He glances skyward for a moment in thought. "Maybe on my deathbed. That might be one of the signs that you need to pull the plug on me in fact. They'd have time to work out their death agreements later, which isn't to say who will be buried or turned into a ghost, since weirdly enough they had already discussed a little bit of that. More like, if they stop producing gummy worms she'll have agreed it's a greater mercy to end his life than continue living in suffering, with a longevity statute, because if that should happen today he'd very much prefer to stay alive long enough to enjoy being with her. When exactly would be long enough certainly doesn't seem like something he can put a date on now, so perhaps there'd never be a time that something outweighed the importance of living longer beside her than not.
"I think we need a little more, substance though," he admits with a sigh, like requiring actual nutrition is a horrible cross to bear. "Haven't ever tried a gummy worm sandwich." Likely for good reason. "Or do you think they'd be better as a wrap?" His lips tilt back and forth as he considers. "Soup, maybe?"
The firm clasp of her fingers in his earns a steady squeeze, because he knows. Much as he'd been cut open today, by her hands no less, she'd not escaped unscathed either. It's part of the appeal of the shower for him, like maybe it could clean off some of the residue that clings as stubborn as the sand, or at least make it feel easier to carry. Together at least, they'd do this together, each of them able to fit back in the pieces where the other couldn't reach, until everything that had fallen loose somewhat resembled the cover of the box again. Might be a little scuffed, some of the cardboard peeking through paint, maybe a layer stripped free on a corner, but recognizable and loved as much for the wear as despite it. All of it starting with those hands, again.
"I love your hands," he declares simply as the thoughts drift past, a smile tossed over at her as they walk. He lifts their linked arm up, placing a kiss along the curl of her knuckles before freeing it back to the swing of their stride.
Any further explanation he might have offered is consumed with an excited grin in response to her poorly stocked pantry. "You know I'd never pass down gummy worms." He glances skyward for a moment in thought. "Maybe on my deathbed. That might be one of the signs that you need to pull the plug on me in fact. They'd have time to work out their death agreements later, which isn't to say who will be buried or turned into a ghost, since weirdly enough they had already discussed a little bit of that. More like, if they stop producing gummy worms she'll have agreed it's a greater mercy to end his life than continue living in suffering, with a longevity statute, because if that should happen today he'd very much prefer to stay alive long enough to enjoy being with her. When exactly would be long enough certainly doesn't seem like something he can put a date on now, so perhaps there'd never be a time that something outweighed the importance of living longer beside her than not.
"I think we need a little more, substance though," he admits with a sigh, like requiring actual nutrition is a horrible cross to bear. "Haven't ever tried a gummy worm sandwich." Likely for good reason. "Or do you think they'd be better as a wrap?" His lips tilt back and forth as he considers. "Soup, maybe?"
Kaisel
I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
