[ He doesn't recoil. If anything, he leans towards her– just a little, not even necessarily a conscious decision. His heart pounds, breath shuddering in his chest. ]
I know.
[ It's a quiet, mumbled admission, ragged at the edges where he refuses to let his voice break. ]
no subject
I know.
[ It's a quiet, mumbled admission, ragged at the edges where he refuses to let his voice break. ]