Whitefish River tonight i'll have a look and try to find my face again

Alas, he finds himself wanting to try, against the odds. No matter how much hears the screech of being undeserving, of others needing to rest their heads elsewhere, Eve wants to try. He is here, at least, until River gets to his feet—and how can he deny the flutter in his chest, as it eases up? The tender tone of River’s raspy voice makes him melt into a soft, shy smile.

It is with the silver male’s touch that the bear indulges in scooting closer, using his stocky limbs to push forward, and bury his cheek into the crook of River’s neck. Amusement flickers in his mismatched green eyes, and he finds himself wanting to laugh; not at his words, because bless him for trying to express and doing so, but out of relief. He was so sure River hated him, after all… it seems silly to think about now.

I like being around you, too. Eve finally finds reason to relax again. And, uh, care a lot about you, too. He repeats, because it is important and at this rate, Eve finds himself out of ways to be eloquent with words—it’s never really been his thing.