Blackfeather Woods heavy dirty soul

Last post from me.

The act of hugging another individual was new for him, and had proven to be something that he'd never quite get used to doing when the gesture was returned. He'd felt uncomfortable, then, as if he was being confined to a single space; there was a part of that also felt as if it was some sort of commitment that he had no business in making. He'd lingered for only a short period of time before having pulled himself out of her embrace, placing a few steps between them and averting his gaze. His skin felt heated—it was most likely out of embarrassment, but he'd related it to anger being directed at an unknown source—and so he'd avoided her gaze for as long as he was able, but still had his ears perked up in response to her words. Xan had tried to fight the urge to look up at her, but had lost the battle and soon found his own gaze boring into hers.

His tongue felt dry, the words he'd wanted to say unable to be properly formed. Surely he would take her promise to heart, and so the idea of her ever breaking it upset him greatly. Rather than voicing that, however, he'd settled on something else entirely. "Thanks, Nem," he'd said, forcing a smile to spread across his lips, but there was no denying how strained it looked. After that, he'd stayed for a bit longer, almost as if to ensure that what she'd said was true. And then later on, he'd been the first to take his leave, not yet ready to turn her into a liar.