This time, when Octavia mirrored his position, she did it on purpose. There was something playful about her doing it - which meant, in her book, that there was also something vulnerable about it.
And that meant trust.
"It's not that weird, flapkrasha." And this time, there was no mistaking that word for an insult. Not with the soft fondness she put into it. "You... you make me want to laugh with you. If not wanting to give that up is weird, then so's you wanting to keep telling me part by part what's supposed to be so lovely about me."
She shrugged a tiny bit, and looked down at their joined hands.
(And no, she hadn't missed that this had been the first time he'd reached for hers first.)
"I'm not saying it's smart --" She'd been hurt enough times by things beyond her control to expect that to come eventually. "-- but it's not that weird. "
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And that meant trust.
"It's not that weird, flapkrasha." And this time, there was no mistaking that word for an insult. Not with the soft fondness she put into it. "You... you make me want to laugh with you. If not wanting to give that up is weird, then so's you wanting to keep telling me part by part what's supposed to be so lovely about me."
She shrugged a tiny bit, and looked down at their joined hands.
(And no, she hadn't missed that this had been the first time he'd reached for hers first.)
"I'm not saying it's smart --" She'd been hurt enough times by things beyond her control to expect that to come eventually. "-- but it's not that weird. "