A Snippet/summary Of That Happens In The Other One Shots.

A snippet/summary of that happens in the other one shots.

It had started with tea. She brought it to him every night, supposedly it

helped with sleep. Then it was quiet conversations. A small joke passed

between midnight hours. Her leaning her head on his shoulder once

when he sat down long enough to actually drink the damn tea.

It was nothing. Until it wasn’t.

Until she touched his hand, and he realized he hadn’t been touched—

really touched—in years, six to be exact and now he knew how starved

he was.

Until she reached for him without flinching, even when he was a little

sharp, a little too tired, a little too much.

Until he kissed her. Soft. Barely-there. Half-asleep in the corner of one of

the corridors of the Riorson house, paper clutched in one hand, her

fingers threaded in his hair.

“You need rest,” she murmured against his mouth.

“I need you,” he whispered back.

And she stayed, she had stayed. Even when his walls cracked open wide

enough to reveal everything.