[As soon as she picks up on the anxiety she moves, despite the reassurance that follows. She doesn't need to know why it bothers him (if she thinks about it, she knows,) only that it does. Instead her fingertips dance along his spine, tracing the line of it down. Another image crosses her mind, and subsequently his, of herself following it with a trail of kisses; but she lets it pass, ephemeral. Maybe later, but they'd have to change places and she doesn't want that right now.]
You are.
[It's a bit of a mumble with her lip in his teeth, but understandable enough.]
no subject
You are.
[It's a bit of a mumble with her lip in his teeth, but understandable enough.]