(mortetm) 💋 to marcus-
First 5 people who send in a “💋” get a kiss from my muse.
@mortetm 1/5 - accepting
Comfort is an odd between strangers; it's hard to find the bounderies of what is and isn't too much, you can't truly know their bounderies or limitations are and more often than not it does more dagame than good. Comfort is a deeply personal thing, one Marcus knew perhaps a little too less of.
However, it's hard not to indulge in the comfort of a small hand touching his cheek, the wordless caress of a stranger whom, perhaps, wished to share a little bit of herself with him. It was odd, it was foreign But it was wlecomed with a sigh the shutting of tired eyes, eyes that'd seen too much pain and misery.
He doesn't know what exactly overtook him and pushed to grab that small hand in his own and press it against his cheek. It's probably not the most comfortable, he doesn't know his own strength and his beard is rough and unkept, but he choose selfishness. He sighs, feeling the tension built in a clenched jaw and, seeking a little bit of release, he turns his head and kisses her palm. Not a soft kiss either, pressed and prolonged, as if he sought to hide in that hand from the entire world.
When he does raise his head, his expression is one of exhaustion. A tired old man. But he does find the strength to smile vaguely in return, appreciative and perhaps a little embarrassed too.
"...Thank you."