He was still for a moment.
Just breathing. His hand still cradling my face, his chest rising and falling beneath my palm. And I watched the emotion move through him—the realization that someone wanted to carry his pain with him.
That I wanted to.
When he opened his eyes, they were watery. “Tora. . .”
I wanted to look away, but I kept my focus on him.
"You can help me carry the grief in other ways. Just by being here."
"I could do more."
"And you will. Hold me when I need you like you did last night and let me hold you." His thumb stroked my jaw. "Let me smell you. Breathing you calms me. Kissing you gives me peace. Loving you gives me purpose." He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. "That's enough, Tora. That alone, easeseverything."
To prove it, he leaned forward and pressed his face into my neck. Right into the curve where my pulse beat.
He inhaled.
Long.
Slow.
Deep.
Like he was drawing my soul into his lungs.
My eyes fluttered shut. My hand slid from his chest to the back of his head, fingers curling into his damp hair.
He exhaled against my skin, and the warmth spread down my neck, across my collarbone, and settled in my chest like a second heartbeat.
"See?" he murmured against my throat. "Peace."
I held him there.
Let him breathe me in some more.
Let the moment be quiet and full.
My heart swelled.
The dragon-shadow watched us.
Still.
Silent.
Present.
"Kenji. . .”
“Yes.”
“I also realized something else today."
He lifted his head from mine. “What did you realize, Tora?”
“I was trying to teachyouwhen I should have been learning. I was making demands like I had the authority to make them." Heat rose to my cheeks. "I made a mistake this morning. I shouldn’t have."
