She said his name again, and damn he really hated how it seemed to push inside him, sing to his blood, make it dance to her whim, beat for her. And why did she stand there? Why did she stand there so calmly in silence and let him pace and rage as if she knew he'd never hurt her. That was all he ever did was hurt people. Didn't she know that?
"I do," she told him, making him pause. Her lips reached out and touched his cheek, pulling his eyes closed to savor it one more time. God, that was a nice touch. That was the kind of touch he didn't get. The kind of care his kind didn't know. Why was she so gentle and patient with him when he was the exact opposite? When he was sharp and lethal and swift to cut anyone down.
Why does her softness draw him in, waiting for the net to drop over his head and trap him.
She must be his, he realized.
She touched him this way and she must've been his.
It sounded insane.
He blinked, let his eyes fall to her slowly swelling belly.
It's okay, she told him. She knew he didn't remember her. How did she know he lost everything? This had happened before.. His gaze lifted back to her face when she pulled back, held his eyes in hers and spoke her name. Leliana. Leliana. And they once knew each other.
He wished he felt it, wished he could remember it. For all he knew, she could be just a pawn for Heartfire or someone else, someone who knew he couldn't remember anything. Someone that wanted to manipulate him, trick him. Control him. He wished her name brought it all back, whatever it was. He wished he could remember her, feel these things that felt so real.
It couldn't be fake when it felt this real. It couldn't.
She was real.
Whatever she was.
His?
His gaze slid to her belly again, nodding his chin at her. "Is that mine?" The question was soft, but his black eyes were sharp, rising to her face again and waiting. Watching. Wishing.. it didn't matter.
Just waiting.
we're slaves to any semblance of touch
Lord, we should quit but we love it too much
