"You may be different, but I don't see a reason to fear you. You've never directly given me one." she said. She knew what being different felt like and how it could make you want to be evil.
'She really is fiery,'
He blinked at her words. Her trust in him, despite everything, made something in his chest tighten. He didn't deserve it, but here she was, offering it freely.
Once she finished adjusting his coat, she smoothed her palms down the front, and Alaric felt her touch linger. She looked up at him, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. "There," she said, her voice soft. "Ready for the day."
For a moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, he reached for her hand, taking it in his own. Her skin was warm against his cold fingers, and he marveled at the contrast.
He brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. It wasn't an act of passion but of something deeper, something gentler—a promise, perhaps, that he didn't fully understand yet.
