His eyes flicked down to my hand, then back to my face.
But he didn’t move away.
I smiled—gentle, worshipful, a lie he wanted to believe—and let my fingertips brush just barely against the fabric of his robe.
He gasped, too loudly.
I hushed him immediately. “Shhh, cherub. It’s alright. It’s only me.”
His lips parted, breath coming shallow.
“Confession,” I said quietly, “is also about release, isn’t it? And you’ve held everything in, haven’t you?”
His voice broke. “Jace…”
“Yes?” I murmured.
“I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”
“That’s the point,” I said, letting my fingers trace the tiniest, softest path to his knee—so slight it could be imagined. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight.” I looked up at him, letting the moment deepen. “You only have to let me be close to you.”
His eyes fluttered shut as his breathing grew erratic—the quiet, trembling pulls of air told me he was hanging on by instinct, not logic.
Perfect.
I let my hand drift a little lower, brushing his ankle through the draping hem of his robe. His eyes shot open, startled, pupils blown wide.
“Jace—”
“You’re tense,” I murmured. “I can feel it from here.”
He swallowed, unsure, but he didn’t move. That was all I needed.
I let my fingers slip beneath the loose fabric pooled around his feet. His skin was soft, cool from hours spent on stone.
He stiffened immediately.
“Relax,” I whispered, keeping my voice steady. “I’m not doing anything improper. You’re exhausted. I’m just helping.”
His toes curled involuntarily, and his face flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.
“But… my feet…” He shook his head quickly, almost panicked. “What if—”
“It’s okay,” I said softly, cupping his heel in one hand. “You’re so wound up. You never let yourself rest.”
My thumb pressed lightly, gently, into the arch of his foot.
Elior sucked in a breath.
“It’s alright,” I soothed. “Just breathe.”
He did, but it came out more like a whimper, tiny and unguarded.
Good.
I continued to work slow circles into the arch of his foot, each pass making his posture melt a little more despite himself. His shoulders dropped. His fingers unclenched from the armrests.
“I shouldn’t…” he whispered. “It feels—It feels too—”
