“We need to move.” Tresilian rolled onto his hands and knees, then stood, grimacing as he stretched. Then he held out his hand, and Midnight took it, accepting the assistance to stand upright.
“Follow me. Stay close. And if you’re attacked, use your sword. If it’s between you and an adversary, I want it to be you.” Tresilian cupped Midnight’s face in his hands, then drew him in to a hard kiss.
In response, Midnight grabbed his lover’s biceps so tightly he was certain he’d leave bruises and, as they parted, breathing harshly, he issued his own warning.
“Don’t you darerisk your life for me, Tresilian Hawke. I can look after myself.”
Tresilian leaned his forehead against Midnight’s without moving his hands away.
“I’m glad to hear it. Midnight, I-I…”
For a second, Midnight held his breath, but the much-desired declaration still didn’t come
“I couldn’t bear for you to be hurt.” Tresilian eased back and looked directly into Midnight’s eyes.