[It's amazing, how he can feel the tension begin to ease out of her. He's not sure what it is that he's said, because he hasn't been calculating in his words, except for the calculation required to avoid swearing, and yet she seems to have taken them to heart, maybe really been reassured by them. It's nice, somehow, to think that just speaking honestly, if more cleanly than normal, has had that result.
And when she puts her arms around his shoulders, and lets herself be close to him, he's perfectly happy to take it slow, perfectly happy to let her by shy, to let her set the pace, because he can't think of anything else he'd rather be doing right now. Maybe that's the alcohol talking, making him slow and sentimental, or maybe it's just that he really does want her to enjoy herself, doesn't want to scare her, and, yes, sees her as a bit of a challenge, a bit of a puzzle to solve.
He's learned, from his previous attempts, that any quick movements with her, any sign of pushing too hard or too fast might startle her, might break the quiet reverie they have right here, and so he sticks to kissing her. His hand on her waist is firm, but he doesn't grip her with any kind of possessiveness, as he might with someone else; he's doing his best to mold himself into what she'll find appealing, into what she'll want to keep around, even if he's not consciously thinking about it.
All he wants to do is please her. It's not a thought he'd admit to out loud, or even to himself, but it's there, all right, behind all these deep, slow, affectionate kisses, behind all of these gently spoken words.]
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And when she puts her arms around his shoulders, and lets herself be close to him, he's perfectly happy to take it slow, perfectly happy to let her by shy, to let her set the pace, because he can't think of anything else he'd rather be doing right now. Maybe that's the alcohol talking, making him slow and sentimental, or maybe it's just that he really does want her to enjoy herself, doesn't want to scare her, and, yes, sees her as a bit of a challenge, a bit of a puzzle to solve.
He's learned, from his previous attempts, that any quick movements with her, any sign of pushing too hard or too fast might startle her, might break the quiet reverie they have right here, and so he sticks to kissing her. His hand on her waist is firm, but he doesn't grip her with any kind of possessiveness, as he might with someone else; he's doing his best to mold himself into what she'll find appealing, into what she'll want to keep around, even if he's not consciously thinking about it.
All he wants to do is please her. It's not a thought he'd admit to out loud, or even to himself, but it's there, all right, behind all these deep, slow, affectionate kisses, behind all of these gently spoken words.]