You have no idea, do you. [ There's a lightness to his voice, in his eyes. The words wash over him, pleasant and insubstantial. It's John's touch that holds him rapt, the warmth radiating from his hand transforming William's attention the way stained glass transfigures mere light into streams of color.
It feels like—well, it feels like feeling, heat and nerves blurring into some nameless emotion. Streaking through him.
He releases a tremulous breath. ] You didn't have to say anything. [ Not this time: no incantation, no Latin hurled across the room. A laugh catches in his throat, and he fights then succumbs to the urge to smile. ] Spiritfingers.
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It feels like—well, it feels like feeling, heat and nerves blurring into some nameless emotion. Streaking through him.
He releases a tremulous breath. ] You didn't have to say anything. [ Not this time: no incantation, no Latin hurled across the room. A laugh catches in his throat, and he fights then succumbs to the urge to smile. ] Spiritfingers.