Adasse pressed his face down into Sorrel's hair, closing his eyes and breathing in the comforting scent of Sorrel. Ink and wood and all things you could find when reading a book out in a forest.

His voice was soft, "And I you, sweetheart."

It is quiet, for a moment. Quiet and still. Until ... it is not. He stills in Sorrel's arms, his heart rate kicking up a little at the other elf's words. His eyes open, then closed, as he lifted his head.

"Okay. Should I ... should I not turn around?" He whispered quietly.