He shrugs: a small, awkward one-shouldered movement.
"I told you I'd already begun to imagine us together after the war was done. I didn't picture it as anything but friendly, it's true. But there were times I'd look at you -- moments where you'd smile, or the sun would hit you just right, or you'd make some little gesture when you were thinking particularly hard about those trebuchets..."
He squeezes Cullen's hand.
"I don't think I recognized it at the time. But if I'd had a few more weeks, I expect it would've it hit me."
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He shrugs: a small, awkward one-shouldered movement.
"I told you I'd already begun to imagine us together after the war was done. I didn't picture it as anything but friendly, it's true. But there were times I'd look at you -- moments where you'd smile, or the sun would hit you just right, or you'd make some little gesture when you were thinking particularly hard about those trebuchets..."
He squeezes Cullen's hand.
"I don't think I recognized it at the time. But if I'd had a few more weeks, I expect it would've it hit me."