"Why didn't you stay," he asks softly from the mouth of the cave. His eyes drink her now as they had in his dream, so many nights ago. She is not made of lamps, but there is an unreachable depth in her gaze, just as he remembers. "Why didn't you take me with you..." His regret swims across his face and he looks close to tears. He looks close to breaking.
Gwiboon sits up for comfort and studies the delta back. "Come here," she murmurs after a while, patting her bedding. "Come here, come to me."
Minho shakes his head for a moment, but when she reaches her hand out he cannot resist the distance any longer. He takes hold of her palm and presses it to his chest. "Why didn't you take me with you," he whispers. "Why didn't you just--" he shudders as he crouches next to her, his head to the ground as if in prayer.
Gwiboon runs her free hand over his hair, petting him and running her fingers over the stars of his ears. "So much love..." she wonders. "Where did you find so much love to give. Hmm?" she asks softly. "Come closer," she urges.
He looks up at her and gulps. "I..." he begins, his mind on the pack, on the alpha he must serve, on the duties he must complete, on the work that must be done for the balance that must be maintained. "If we are found, I--"
She hushes him. "We are not mates," she caresses his jaw with adoration. "We are not here because we must be. We are here because we want to be," she smiles and a silent question goes between them then, answered when he crawls closer and holds his arms around her.
"I want to be here," he repeats against her full moon peircings. "I... choose this."
She strokes his back, his sides, his arms. He is sweet and gentle, even when he does nothing. He is soft and kind, even when he is silent. He is loving, even when he doesn't have to be. She kisses the side of his face and he gasps like this is the first kiss ever bestowed on him. She kisses his shoulder and he looks close to sobbing. She presses their nose together and waits for him settle between her legs, helping him move, helping him realise this isn't a ceremony, this isn't a ritual. This is simply her, simply him. This is just them, no more.
He gives her his every breath that night, and when his eyes begin to grow heavy, he feels her arm snake around his waist to pull him closer. "You are not mine. I am not yours," she whispers. "But you have given me your heart. I take it for cherishing."
He blushes at the words, nodding silently as he holds her to his chest.
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