Her eyes fell to his hand, following his motions as he lightly brushed her cheek. His touch was warm against her cool skin. She had missed his touch, his presence; longed for it. She fought the urge to react, to touch him back. âWine sounds lovely.â She commented with a smile. âSay, do you still have that bottle I gave you for Christmas?âÂ
Had her skin actually gotten softer? Maybe. Or maybe heâd just missed her so much, missed being able to do this.. and shit, it probably showed. It would be easy, wouldnât it? Just to moved that breath or two closer and-- No, Tony committed and contented himself to just this, to another lingering, tender touch before stopping, before letting his hand fall and find hers. âIâve been saving it. Join me in..â Voices began to return and his eyes flickered with pain. â--in the kitchen?â he picked up after that initial hitch.










