[He melts into the tenno with a ragged breath, nerves singing and the want deep in his stomach twisting and coiling. The hand is gone, and he's momentarily thankful for that but there's a longing that he can't place into words accompanied by a distinct sense of loss and dissatisfaction.]
I apologize.
[The words come breathless, but he can't be bothered to speak properly at the moment.]
no subject
I apologize.
[The words come breathless, but he can't be bothered to speak properly at the moment.]
Please. Don't stop.