He’s GLAD to know his realism and hopes for … something more with her weren’t mutually exclusive. Hard to imagine it being that way, too, given the usually logic approach Miranda takes toward just about everything. But then, these are unadulterated emotions and subsequent feelings one can barely keep in check. Affection is what it is because of that: it can’t be contained, it’s just there ––––– and Shepard’s slowly starting to figure that out. ❝ Just as long as you’re sure. ❞
One more addition to the closing tune of their discussion. His stubbornness remains but the noise it makes is rendered a dying note in the wake of her concession. The deal is sealed in the literal sense of it, at least, but from the looks of it she intends to pair it with a gesture ( which is when Aiden realises he really wants her to ). Uncertainty as to what it’ll entail furrows his brow just slightly as her hand vacates its spot beneath his yet it proves itself to be a short-lived contortion when her intent becomes clear. He lets her do as she pleases for that reason, leaning into whatever she’s willing to give with harnessed eagerness. Truly, he’ll take whatever she gives him now that he’s opened up to the possibility that is ‘them’.
When she swathes an arm around his ( unharmed ) shoulder, he actually surrenders to the notion of it; to her. He reciprocates in kind, bringing both arms around her middle ––– injured arm’s grasp obviously looser but he refuses to make a half-done effort only. He’ll take the sting that comes with the movement and pressure applied instead, all in favour of stressing the sincerity of his care. Seeing as neither of them are necessarily loving or loveable at heart, it doesn’t take a genius for him to figure out that this means A LOT.
Head tilts just so his nose leans against the side of her head. Even after a firefight, she smells like shower products. ❝ Thanks … for your patience, I mean. ❞
The reaffirmation follows with her voice only partly muffled against Shepard’s shoulder, pieces of lower leg armour knocking against one another, serving as a reminder of their current state of undress from their latest mission. Yet, neither of them makes a move to continue the task from before their verbal disagreement that’s led to this - she has no complaints as his arms wrap around her back.
Even the gesture in of itself is something calming in the unruly sea of uncertainty, of the unknown future. It’s for them, a moment of stability for their beginning together - and a moment of person to person contact that so many of them have been deprived of for so long. An embrace like this holds an immense weight of its own accord, given from a woman who has so very often preferred her solitude. Her arm tightens slightly, closing her eyes for just a moment. She knows his strength and capability, but the way he returns the gesture is firm yet gentle.
Yet, Miranda begins to pull away (almost reluctantly, in a way), but stays standing before him, close enough that her voice needn’t be any louder than a whisper for him to hear her clearly.
“I understand why you were... hesitant, Shepard, I do.”
Being under the lights of the docking bay makes Miranda quite self-aware of their current state, recovering from a highly engaged fight, one party still evidently wounded. Her arms fold over the material of her under armour body suit, a shiver resonating over her shoulders.
“Just... give me some time too, okay? And please, get your arm looked at.”
Only again, after enough self-convincing, Miranda returns to facing the work bench, a sigh barely escaping parted lips. Even under the harsh light with deep shadows cast over them, the corners of her mouth are upturned.
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