Greengrass moved closer, and Valerian instinctively closed the space between them again so he could reach out and let his fingertips rest on the other man's wrist. The touching helped feel less distant, less lost—and yet, they were still talking about Tatiana, and Greengrass was asking questions he couldn't really answer with any certainty, and it still felt like they were one misguided sentence away from falling apart.
He doubted he was going to get Greengrass into bed tonight. As the thought went through his mind his lips slid into a frown. "I... really can't say," he admitted, "but I think she wants to marry—soon. I can't envision a hasty rush to the alter, but we'll likely be married... this year." He watched Greengrass' face as he spoke, looking for any signs that he wouldn't be okay with that. He needed him to be okay with that.
He doubted he was going to get Greengrass into bed tonight. As the thought went through his mind his lips slid into a frown. "I... really can't say," he admitted, "but I think she wants to marry—soon. I can't envision a hasty rush to the alter, but we'll likely be married... this year." He watched Greengrass' face as he spoke, looking for any signs that he wouldn't be okay with that. He needed him to be okay with that.
