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And stopped.
He hovered there, the warmth from his fingers permeating her skin. She wanted to sink into the touch.
But he was waiting.
The contrast hit her so hard it physically hurt. Korvel had grabbed her like he had the right. But Caelyn studied her with rapt attention. Like she was something holy enough to pray for.
Elowynn’s eyes burned with unshed tears.
“May I?” he whispered.
Her answer came breathlessly and without hesitation.
“Yes.”
The moment his hand finally touched her cheek, every thought dissolved.
His calloused fingertips brushed her cheekbone with impossible gentleness, as though he still couldn't quite believe she was truly there beneath his hand.
Elowynn forgot how to breathe.
No one had ever touched her like this before. As if she were worthy of being revered and appreciated by touch alone. Like her feelings were important. Like she mattered.
But then again, she had never allowed it.
A part of Elowynn now wondered if it was because she was waiting for Caelyn, or if she was waiting for herself to admit her feelings mirrored his.
Caelyn exhaled a shaky breath, his forehead lowering until it nearly rested against hers.
“You’re freezing,” he murmured, but she couldn't respond. She was transfixed and shivering, yes. But it was not from the cold.
His thumb brushed lightly beneath her eye, then paused.
“El?”
Only then did she notice the tears she had felt earlier had begun to fall.
How humiliating.
Elowynn turned her face away, but Caelyn only followed the movement before tenderly bringing her chin back to face him.
“Do not,” he said, his tone affectionate.
“I am not crying,” she sniffled.
“You’re absolutely crying,” he smiled.
Her eyes closed, and she reached her hands up between them, curling her fists into his coat. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed his attention had lowered to her mouth.
The air between them was electric, and Elowynn’s breath stuttered. Caelyn seemed to notice what he was doing at the same moment because his entire body went rigid.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, almost pleading.
The words shattered what little composure remained inside her. Because he would. He actually would, she knew it in her very soul. Even now. Like this.
He would stop for her.
“I… cannot…”
