[ He can't escape this focus, not without answering the question. It's specific for a reason, oriented at a specific goal. She knows he trusts her. She knows a lot of things in regards to him, but she wants to drive this one particular point home right now, wants him to understand after everything he's said to her, all the times people have failed him and all the ways he's been left to fend for himself over and over again - she needs him to know that is never going to happen again. She is fairly certain he does believe it, but she wants him to say it out loud, acknowledge to himself that he believes it. If he doesn't believe it that's another matter entirely, but she's pretty sure this is just a matter of him having difficulty actually saying it.
It happens a lot, and it's something she understands, but nevertheless she's waiting out for the answer. This is something he's going to be able to acknowledge that he believes because she needs him to say it out loud, for him and for her. There's a long pause after his answer as she considers it, determines whether it fits what she asked from him.
And then she speeds up her pace a little, just calculated enough, presses closer against him and gives herself enough leverage with the chair that she can press her mouth against his neck and his pulse. ] I will never leave you anywhere. You can come.
no subject
It happens a lot, and it's something she understands, but nevertheless she's waiting out for the answer. This is something he's going to be able to acknowledge that he believes because she needs him to say it out loud, for him and for her. There's a long pause after his answer as she considers it, determines whether it fits what she asked from him.
And then she speeds up her pace a little, just calculated enough, presses closer against him and gives herself enough leverage with the chair that she can press her mouth against his neck and his pulse. ] I will never leave you anywhere. You can come.