Good. Trust is good, right? Maybe, for once, he did something right. Sweeney finds a small smile in return, something laced with tendrils of hope.
Trust. Right. Good.
It's a strange thing to feel like he's done Enough at all, especially for her. But he's good enough to do this one thing, to redeem himself in some small way. Not the whole course, obviously; there's so much dirt left above him. But at least there's a glimmer of light, one that wasn't there a minute ago.
His other hand lifts so he can cradle her head when he kisses her. It's not rough or wanton, but it's far from chaste. It's warm in a way that isn't hasty, isn't him running off. Just something that can nurture that hope to take root.
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Trust. Right. Good.
It's a strange thing to feel like he's done Enough at all, especially for her. But he's good enough to do this one thing, to redeem himself in some small way. Not the whole course, obviously; there's so much dirt left above him. But at least there's a glimmer of light, one that wasn't there a minute ago.
His other hand lifts so he can cradle her head when he kisses her. It's not rough or wanton, but it's far from chaste. It's warm in a way that isn't hasty, isn't him running off. Just something that can nurture that hope to take root.