Whispers, soft, gentle. Murmuring lips pressed down her neck and along her shoulders. Half-words, sentiments unspoken. You are precious to me. You are wonderful. Marvellous. Amazing. My dear.
(How could I not see this before? I am sorry. Forgive me. Please.)
Fingers curved around hips, stroking, smooth circles on soft skin. Whispering own language, feather-light. I can do better. I will do better. Legs intertwined, bodies curved.
It is only one night. It can only be one night. One night with so much going on around them - Trials and worry, fears buried deep, half-denied. Still. It is one night to cling to After.
(And on cold dawns, returned to his coffin, slipping towards sleep, arms empty, his lips curve those words once more. I am sorry. I love you.)