His hand finds her shoulder. It's a gentle, reassuring pressure, but it renders her silent and still for its steadiness.[break][break]

This is dangerous, a tiny voice reminds her. But another part of her stirs in response, the little white flowers blooming at their feet a warning that another part of her holds greater sway over her than caution ever has.[break][break]

"Surely you could find something more meaningful for yourself than floristry?" she murmurs, daring to look back at him as she attempts a wry smile. She's not sure if she recognizes the man she sees, though.[break][break]

He stares at her like she's something more precious than she has any right to be.[break][break]

"Do you think some secrets are better left buried?"

[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPH[break][break]

[attr="class","pkmn"]

It's hard to know how many seconds pass like this.[break][break]

Time simply stands still as his forehead meets hers, the reassuring warmth of another human being sending a flush through her skin. She can't remember the last time someone touched her like this, though of course someone had, leaving her aching for their absence.[break][break]

Her hands uncross, falling to her sides with indecision. She wonders if it's right to want to hold him; she wonders if it's better to end this with a forceful shove, severing whatever connection he seems intent on deepening between them.[break][break]

And for this reason she says nothing, sure whatever it is she manages to say will be the wrong thing. Words would either end everything or encourage it to continue, and she cannot decide if she is willing to do either.[break][break]

Ultimately, inaction is a surrender in and of itself.

[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPH[break][break]

[attr="class","pkmn"]