An alternative exists, one that Sadie deems acceptable. As she brushes his cheeks once again with her thumbs, his eyes become half-lidded as she makes the matter straightforward. He reaches his hands up to touch her forearms, fingertips slipping gently over the bone beneath to curl for a more solid contact.

It would not be so simple for anyone else. He knows this.

Considering himself, he speaks softly, voice without the same tautness as before as the start of a smile shows itself, “...thank you, Sadie. I think I need time is all.”