[ her fingers in his feel warm, comfortable. easy, like it should be. and he exhales slowly, running a thumb over her knuckles. relaxing into the contact. and he wants to kiss her again, and hold her, but lotor knows that that chapter is long since over.

this is temporary. all of it is temporary. and he wants to talk to allura about that, and explain it, and own it, but . . . ]

My childhood has nothing to do with it, it . . .

[ but he stops himself, there, allows his voice to trail off, and he sighs, inclining his head back toward the temple. toward buildings, and their homes. their temporary abodes, anyway. ]

Can we return to talk inside? Or . . . not talk at all, but I would rather not have someone overhear. Or stumble upon us.

[ he doesn't want to deal with the fallout, so to speak. ]