"I would not offer you..." Skellig intertwines their fingers (it is familiar, the way his thumb runs over her knuckles, the way her hand seems to fit in his just so) and looks at their hands. "I am not afraid of what you would ask for."

His words still aren't fully in order, but the meaning is something he is still striving for, as he recovers from their fight in this space.

"I am vulnerable," he admits. "But I am not afraid. And I while...I am not entirely certain of just how I have gotten here...I am here." He glances up at her, his hair falling into his face slightly, trying to lean to catch her gaze. "Your kiss brings a great comfort to my soul...it is as if it realigns my system, with where it should already be."

The scent of blood still fills his nostrils, and he knows they will need to deal with that shoulder. But that can wait a moment.

"I am not afraid."