( she's relieved, to say the least. her hesitation hasn't spooked him off or upset him; instead, it seems to have found understanding even without her explanation, the hint of shared experience in the way wally's gaze doesn't waver from her own. the breath he exhales only confirms her suspicion that they might have both been fearing the same bad end. it makes her feel a little less alone. he makes her feel a little less alone. it's a bit of consistency she hadn't realized she was craving.

to his question, skye offers a simple nod, a murmured yeah; her expression brightens with the syllable, a small smile curving her mouth that brings a little color to her cheeks. )

That sounds good. Smart. It's a good idea.

( and it is good — after all, he's holding her hand still. or, rather, she's still clinging to his, fingers curled snug around his own as she peers up at all six feet something of him. there's an impulse in the back of her mind, a wanting to seal their agreement with something a little more obvious, but she can't quite shake the hesitation swimming through her limbs. so what's next, she wants to ask, but the words don't come out quite right. instead, a jumble of thoughts spill through her mind and out of her mouth, as if of their own accord, unable to be stopped. )

But. Question. How, um — how slow are we talking here? Because I'm not really sure I brought enough clothes for a Victorian timetable, and I kind of thought the whole together aspect would involve a little more... uh. Together?

( loose translation: i want to kiss you but i don't want to freak you out. )