askalopas
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Worf knew that he wore his heart on his sleeve, that it didn’t take a genius to figure him out. He liked it that way. It kept people at a comfortable distance, made them avoid him, fear him. But where others flinched or tiptoed, Riker smiled and teased. Leaned in, not away.
Bookmarked by askalopas
12 Oct 2020
Bookmarker's Notes
“Ow,” Riker said belatedly, looking at his hand with interest.
“I am sorry,” Worf said, voice shaking, still gripping Riker’s hand. He could hardly think straight. “I could not--”
HNNNNNGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH
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Summary
An unaided heat was a psychologically and physically taxing event, one Hannibal had never had the chance to observe first-hand.
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William raised his eyebrows. “You speak in riddles.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve never been good at conversation.”
William just smiled, slow and warm, as though what she’d said was sweet or interesting, rather than an admittance of her basic interpersonal ineptitude. His eyes were such a brilliant blue, and Yuta realized with horror that she was smiling back.