HE WAS MORE SURPRISED THAN ANYTHING ELSE, the feeling of Hawke’s calloused fingers pushing his apart and Hawke’s palm now pressed flat against his was something that was foreign, but not unwelcome. Alistair turned to Hawke, but didn’t say anything about their hands tangled together, lest it sound like PROTEST. He would never protest this. Hawke wasn’t looking at him, his emerald eyes plastered to the sights around them though it wasn’t really new or exciting, experiencing it LIKE THIS must have been. He glanced down then, their hands dangling between them, the space slowly minimizing as his heart beat WILDLY in his chest. A great cacophony of muscles clenching and relaxing, a great CRESCENDO of blood rushing through his veins one agonizing pump at a time. It was so loud in his own ears, he wondered if Hawke could hear it, or worse, FEEL IT.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Alistair squeezed Hawke’s hand gently, a reassuring gesture that told Alistair the other man was actually there and not just a FIGMENT OF HIS IMAGINATION. Not just a face in dream.
