[He feels her moving back (his hands slide with her to hold her hips). He feels the responding emptiness in his gut, the apprehension, the frustration. His blue eyes search hers at her question; nothing about his demeanor changes either. If anything, it worsens - his jaw tightens. He hates seeing the look in her eyes more than anything, and that's reason enough to answer, to fill the space.] Just Bobby. He and Laura are in.
Look, sweetheart... [He trails off, but his eyes don't leave hers. They're focused, unwavering, even as he wavers inside. One of his hands lifts to push back her hair. He wants to say and not say so many things. Tell her he loves her, ask what she's thinking, tell her what he is, tell her he's doing this for them. Nothing seems right. Seems honest.
His voice is strong, but gentle.] What's going on with us?
no subject
Look, sweetheart... [He trails off, but his eyes don't leave hers. They're focused, unwavering, even as he wavers inside. One of his hands lifts to push back her hair. He wants to say and not say so many things. Tell her he loves her, ask what she's thinking, tell her what he is, tell her he's doing this for them. Nothing seems right. Seems honest.
His voice is strong, but gentle.] What's going on with us?