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His heart seemed to spasm in his chest at her touch which would've been maybe pleasant if he hadn't already been reeling from the physical toll standing up had caused him. Now he was more likely to faint than she was. If she could feel his heart pounding then so be it, that was the least of his concerns. Mixed up in the searing pain of his gunshot wound and wild emotions somehow was the urge to kiss her and more, and hell it might be his last chance to kiss her and his only chance to... It would be a considerable comfort to him to have at least that if he couldn't have her, the cherry on the top being the knowledge that he'd had her before Macnair. It would only ever be a vile fantasy, she'd have to be a little more forward than that for him to be confident she wouldn't reject him, then there was the fact he could barely bend his legs without keeling over at this point, anything more strenuous was beyond him completely.

Charles did sheepishly allow himself to move his hand from her shoulder to her waist in what he was telling himself was clearly a supportive gesture as far as she needed to be concerned. Maybe it would be acceptable to kiss her, maybe it's what she wanted. Did this mean she'd changed her mind? Or maybe she just wanted some support because she felt dizzy and had had the misfortune to lean against an even more unstable object. The etiquette of kissing was admittedly not his strong point and he wasn't going to be the man who kissed his prostitutes. Kissing Noelle had been alright at first but then he realized he hated her and stopped. He slid his hand to the small of her back, again telling himself it was an innocent gesture. His own dizziness was finally starting to subside even if the pain was not. I have you, he murmured, meaning he wouldn't let her fall* but he immediately heard the other meaning and his heart panged to think how much he wanted to mean it that way too.

*If he could help it. Which he couldn't.

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Outfit | Tag: Tatiana Lestrange | Notes: