@charlesmiith Continued from (x)
Arthur looked up as Charles’s hand found his. Work roughened skin against the same was a heady feeling, an unexpected but welcome warmth that unsurprisingly didn’t help his nerves one bit.
His heart was in his throat. He hoped their joined hands meant Charles had caught his meaning. It seemed hard to misread the flush of his skin and the intensity in his words, but no matter how sure he was there would always be that lingering doubt.
Despite it all, when Charles withdrew Arthur’s hand followed with purpose. Pressed palm to palm like this it felt more intimate, his thumb running over scar-crossed skin and finally crossing the line of plausible deniability.
“You sure about that?” he asked, face severe despite the softness of his words, steeled for whatever may come. Now that intentions had finally been made clear it was a chance, the last one he’d get. Turn tail and run and they both knew this would never be spoken of again.