Scars were like that on the front too, until they became life-changing, horrid things. Then everyone suddenly stopped talking about them, would pointedly pretend they were there, which was somehow worse.
Edward jolts when Danse pulls away, the shared memory of Christmas dissipating like ripples through water. All four hands loosen their grip but don't let go. He wasn't expecting a reaction like that, not when he'd shown something benign and pleasant. Had he been sharing a memory of the war, Danse's retreat would make more sense, but Edward is baffled about what caused the issue.
"I'm sorry, was that too much?" Tentatively, Edward strokes his thumb along Danse's cheekbone again. Another shared vision, this one more of a glimpse than a prolonged scene: two pints of a dark beer on a battered wooden bar top, their scent rich and hoppy, and a pair of hands recognisable as Edward's reaching out to take them.
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Edward jolts when Danse pulls away, the shared memory of Christmas dissipating like ripples through water. All four hands loosen their grip but don't let go. He wasn't expecting a reaction like that, not when he'd shown something benign and pleasant. Had he been sharing a memory of the war, Danse's retreat would make more sense, but Edward is baffled about what caused the issue.
"I'm sorry, was that too much?" Tentatively, Edward strokes his thumb along Danse's cheekbone again. Another shared vision, this one more of a glimpse than a prolonged scene: two pints of a dark beer on a battered wooden bar top, their scent rich and hoppy, and a pair of hands recognisable as Edward's reaching out to take them.