[ He lays down next to her, shifting his fingers in her hold to something a little more solid. A little more entwined. The sigh he lets out as he settles is a weary one; there'd been concerns in Antiva City about being caught, and in one or two places it had been a near enough thing.
An arm goes beneath his head, between his salt-spray-scented hair and the pillow. He lets go of her hand in order to trace a fingertip down her nose, from the point between her eyebrows all the way down to the very tip, and then comes to rest in the divot of skin above the bow of her upper lip. ]
I love you, [ Loki states quietly. That feels like something impossible, something both dangerous and delicate. It feels terrifying for it to be true, and even more, perhaps, that he believes it's been true for at least a little while now. ]
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An arm goes beneath his head, between his salt-spray-scented hair and the pillow. He lets go of her hand in order to trace a fingertip down her nose, from the point between her eyebrows all the way down to the very tip, and then comes to rest in the divot of skin above the bow of her upper lip. ]
I love you, [ Loki states quietly. That feels like something impossible, something both dangerous and delicate. It feels terrifying for it to be true, and even more, perhaps, that he believes it's been true for at least a little while now. ]