[ He sees the walls closing again, sees the Director coming back to take control. Once, he would have thought of it as Jesse closing herself off from him, but he knows better now. The walls might be closing in, but she's not closing herself off from him. It's a nuanced thing that only Jesse would do, but he understands it now, and it doesn't mean he loves her any less. She's never loved him any less, even with all the hurt that he's caused her and all the baggage he brings along with him. How could he not love her, when she's never pulled back unless she had to? Unless he forced her hand?
Her hands move to hold his face, and his hands move to curl around her back, his grip tightening by just a fraction to signify how he never wants to let her go. He never wants to be unable to touch her or hold her, and now he knows without a doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to take action if something tried to get between them. A bullet between the eyes would get the message across loud and clear.
He keeps his gaze focused on hers, gray eyes searching green ones, searching her face, memorizing every detail. He's done this before, committing every detail that's her to his memory, but the darkness tried to wash the memory away. Now he won't let that happen. He's not drifting or drowning, he's there and present and there's a purpose to everything he does.
Even when she rolls onto her back and guides him to follow, he moves with resolve, with determination. ]
I'm trying to get it back. I'm trying to remember. [ It can't all be lost to the darkness. It has to still be in there somewhere.
It feels beyond important to him that he reclaim what was taken from him, but a part of him knows that it may be actually lost, no matter how resolved he is to get it back. Still, he won't stop trying. ]
You do? [ He shifts slightly, leaning into her hold; he's always liked it when she touches his beard. It's something he can't explain, but the sensation stirs up something inside him. ] I could probably find another one like it, and I'd wear it just for you. [ He huffs out a laugh. ]
Between you and me, I never liked that suit anyway. [ He feels as though he's told her that before, but it's just a vague sense of familiarity, so he says it again. ]
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Her hands move to hold his face, and his hands move to curl around her back, his grip tightening by just a fraction to signify how he never wants to let her go. He never wants to be unable to touch her or hold her, and now he knows without a doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to take action if something tried to get between them. A bullet between the eyes would get the message across loud and clear.
He keeps his gaze focused on hers, gray eyes searching green ones, searching her face, memorizing every detail. He's done this before, committing every detail that's her to his memory, but the darkness tried to wash the memory away. Now he won't let that happen. He's not drifting or drowning, he's there and present and there's a purpose to everything he does.
Even when she rolls onto her back and guides him to follow, he moves with resolve, with determination. ]
I'm trying to get it back. I'm trying to remember. [ It can't all be lost to the darkness. It has to still be in there somewhere.
It feels beyond important to him that he reclaim what was taken from him, but a part of him knows that it may be actually lost, no matter how resolved he is to get it back. Still, he won't stop trying. ]
You do? [ He shifts slightly, leaning into her hold; he's always liked it when she touches his beard. It's something he can't explain, but the sensation stirs up something inside him. ] I could probably find another one like it, and I'd wear it just for you. [ He huffs out a laugh. ]
Between you and me, I never liked that suit anyway. [ He feels as though he's told her that before, but it's just a vague sense of familiarity, so he says it again. ]