His gasp is one of alarm and only slight fear— the instinctive knowledge that Clarisse can and would and almost did kick his arse— but Benedict stops, pinioned more by her words than her grip.
“We are,” he says, apologetically. He doesn’t pull away, but doesn’t explain, either.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-11-23 03:49 am (UTC)“We are,” he says, apologetically. He doesn’t pull away, but doesn’t explain, either.