It’s a hopelessly self-evident fact, but not for a man who has struggled so much with these mere basics of letting himself be loved. Stephen’s next breath is shaky.

Ugh, feelings are the worst, why must we have them.

It’s finally too much, having hit some critical mass where his neck and shoulders are getting stiff in this position and he could claim that’s the pragmatic reason; but mostly it’s just that he’d like to see Gwenaëlle again. He shifts beneath her, a tell-tale roiling landslide of movement as he tilts and tilts until she’s dislodged and slides off him to the mattress, but he soon follows it up by still rolling until he’s reversed their positions, his body hovering over hers, leaning in to kiss her.

Sometimes he, too, finds it a little easier to communicate without words.