"Val," I say slowly, staring at his hand that is clamped around my own, not truly seeing. Instead my mind is consumed elsewhere with thoughts and queries, of the baseless whisperings of mortal fears and desires that I never knew I had. But one question makes itself prevalent among all others- a question that I have been meaning to ask for a long time now: one that I had formerly dismissed for the sheer ludicrously of it and yet now with his hands in mine, I cannot dispel it as I so often did.
A low murmur that slips from his throat tells me he has heard me, and I all at once become very conscious of his eyes on me. Shuffling around a bit, I make myself comfortable where I sit, sifting through my mind to find the words I am uncertain if I can voice.
