Dread would do anything she asked, but he didn't want to feel like he was pushing himself on her. And maybe he's convinced himself that he is pushing himself on her. On her, into her life. Making her feel like she has to be here. Maybe Dread has convinced himself that he's burdening her, following her around like some lost puppy.
He'd been lost for so long.
Around her he felt like he'd been found and really seen. As they walk together, Dread is at war with himself again. Torn between wanting so badly to touch her and feeling like he'd lost the privilege entirely. Someone else's scent hung heavily around their heads, enough to cast a sullen quiet over Dread. He's seething, but he knows that it's just as much his fault. They'd never... defined things. He'd been distant. It was his fault.
All his fucking bad feelings, but Dread clings to her side. His chest aches but he doesn't care. They walked together, far into the north. Places that he hadn't been since his youth, since he'd gone exploring-- told to stick close only to immediately disobey. Breaking in would have been a bridge too far back in those days. Now? Now, Dread squeezes in behind Deluge, grumbling as he does. Baring his teeth, feeling the ice dig into his skin.
Finally dragging himself through the narrow gap, Dread gazes around the room. "Damn." His eyebrows lifted, voice echoing around the stately room. Something about it tugged at his chest, though his mood was still largely sullen. At least it's pretty.
Bard
