[His breath stills when she stands before him, reaching down to cup his face in her hands. He tilts his head up on instinct, always seeking that touch — her hands, always so warm, a source of comfort even in… uncertainty.

Because despite everything, he has to chuckle. Light, a twisted-up in wryness, but not without fondness.]

Of course. [Of course it would be okay. There is no one else that he would wish to learn how to share his adoration with.] I do not know what I am doing either, my love. You will find that you are in good company.

[He exhales, breathless and anticipatory.]

But I wish to learn. With you.