[Gentle space is placed between them as Connor draws back, and Markus takes comfort in the look of the other. More color in his features, healthier and haler, a little more light in brown eyes. He feels his own wash of relief, glad to be the reason for it — wanting nothing more than to be the reason for it, his very existence in this moment only to make Connor to feel better, more grounded, no longer afraid of pressing forward with each day that passes.

All of it for Connor’s benefit, spoken to softly embolden him. And yet when his hands are drawn up by the other, when lips brush against his knuckles in the barest whisper of a thing, he thinks to himself of how fortunate he is to have him; someone so devoted, someone who manages to make Markus’ heart stutter in his chest when a million other things would never do the trick.

This deeply growing affection, given a jolt after Connor’s disappearance... he wonders if he can continue to live up to deserving it.]

Then it’s a two-way street. [Fingers tighten warmly against Connor’s own, and Markus leans forward again, just long enough to grant him a barely-there kiss across his brow. He's unable to fight the curl of a smile.]

You and I always finding each other, eventually, no matter what happens. Not too steep of a promise to make.

[Not for the strongest hearts, nor the most willful spirits.]