Hushed Willows furnace

Buchanan watched as she moved closer, a few steps but not close enough to touch and respectful of that the dark wraith remained still, though unbeknownst to him he yearned just as much to close the distance as his lovely companion. Mercurial gaze swept over her where it rested, warm and affectionate despite the cool, pale coloration of his irises. “I know you can,” Buchanan's concurred in regards that she could handle his flashbacks and the psychological scars that The Officer left him with just as he could handle her rage. He didn't mean it suggestively. His ears slicked back when she mumbled about him knowing what she meant, and he felt the heat rush to his own face. God, his face was so warm. He wanted to re-assure her but given that he wasn't sure it was appropriate or how to even do it in a chivalrous manner he thought it was better that he didn't speak. Was there any way to talk about being intimate in a polite, non suggestive manner? Probably. But he hadn't been socialized enough as a child to be able to put together how to do it without sounding like a pervert or embarrassing the both of them in the process, figuring that his agreement could serve a dual purpose.

Yet, their confessions — if that's what they were — left a singular and big question unanswered to the assassin; and followed by series of smaller questions. His ears cupped forth and he ghosted forward a small step, closing a small sliver of the distance left between them. Were there customs for this sort of thing? Oh, Buchanan knew what he wanted well enough but he wasn't sure how to go about asking it or even if it was appropriate to ask it now. He'd already knew he wanted to be with her, to spend his life with her; but that was just him, his wishes. There was a whole other person to think about. “I have to admit I have no idea about courting or anything,” On the aspects of a “normal” life The Officer had intentionally never taught him. He was embarrassed to admit it, but it was the (probably quite obvious) truth.

At this point, there seemed like only one logical thing for Buchanan to do. His stomach roiled and knotted with a sudden anxious flutter of nerves. He resisted the urge to lower himself into a submissive pose. Now wasn't the time for that, besides Banner was his Beta, it was true, but she wasn't The Officer. The Gamma took a deep breath and held to the belief that only the best things in life were worth the risk. “Will you-” He took another deep breath and offered her a smile. “-will you be my mate?” Not a question he would have ever seen himself asking, and because the nerves threatened to suffocate him he cleared his throat and spoke, “You can think about it if you need to, and if you're not ready that's — I understand.” And if you don't want to, I'll understand that too. God, he was awful at this. Way to go Buchanan, you probably made the most awkward proposal in history.