[people can be happy here, vash had told her what seems like an age ago now; it's funny, how time feels when it's actually there, stretched beyond any and all limits she'd ever known. happy — the word sticks in her mind, taking root there as they're curled together, as a gentle thumb brushes the hair away from cassian's forehead and he is, in this moment, the only center of her world. is that what this is? the actual name she could put to the smile that can't seem to fade from her own face when he kisses her and tells her that she's beautiful, or the warmth that settles in her to the point of feeling like it's permanent.
is she happy?
the whole concept of that is so foreign that she still struggles to piece it together, but, she thinks — maybe. maybe she is. maybe it's actually possible.
he has this way of showing her what's possible when she'd thought otherwise.
and that's one reason, one reason out of so many, more than she can actually quantify, that —]
I love you.
[it's soft, barely more than a whisper, but it fills the space they share with every bit of emotion she feels.
you're beautiful, too, is a thought that goes unsaid, maybe less because she's not quite sure how to say it, but because she doesn't need to. it's there in how her eyes never leave him, how her hand keeps touching his face, reverent, fingers ghosting over the skin there like they're handling something precious. it's also there in how she leans forward, pressing her lips to his in a long, slow kiss, one that can take the time that they have.
(it wouldn't be terrible if you two made each other happy.)]
no subject
is she happy?
the whole concept of that is so foreign that she still struggles to piece it together, but, she thinks — maybe. maybe she is. maybe it's actually possible.
he has this way of showing her what's possible when she'd thought otherwise.
and that's one reason, one reason out of so many, more than she can actually quantify, that —]
I love you.
[it's soft, barely more than a whisper, but it fills the space they share with every bit of emotion she feels.
you're beautiful, too, is a thought that goes unsaid, maybe less because she's not quite sure how to say it, but because she doesn't need to. it's there in how her eyes never leave him, how her hand keeps touching his face, reverent, fingers ghosting over the skin there like they're handling something precious. it's also there in how she leans forward, pressing her lips to his in a long, slow kiss, one that can take the time that they have.
(it wouldn't be terrible if you two made each other happy.)]