[He isn't thrown until he feels her weight against him. Davesprite's gotten used to the intimacy of so much counsel and hand-holding, but the easy way Xion leans on him, her unassuming closeness--she just bypasses all his usual locks and hits him at his core. It jars him because she always strikes him exactly where he needs it.
Xion trusts him. Xion relies on him.
Slowly, carefully, because she has his hand, Davesprite spreads his wing behind her so it covers her back. It's a cloak, perhaps--or a shield. A comfort.]
Of course.
[His voice is as light and gentle as it ever gets, and quietly fond.]
no subject
Xion trusts him. Xion relies on him.
Slowly, carefully, because she has his hand, Davesprite spreads his wing behind her so it covers her back. It's a cloak, perhaps--or a shield. A comfort.]
Of course.
[His voice is as light and gentle as it ever gets, and quietly fond.]
Where else would I ever want to be?