Kaija's hands gave in as she felt the way Antony pressed them closer to his face, the warmth of his skin slowly seeping into her palms.
His long fingers threaded through the spaces between hers, holding them there as though reluctant to let go. For a long moment, neither of them moved.
When Antony finally spoke again, the gold in his eyes had softened. The guarded sharpness she was used to seeing was gone, replaced by something quieter, gentler.
"Thank you," he said.
The longing in his voice was so fragile it sounded as though it might break apart if either of them spoke too loudly.
"You're feeling okay now?" Kaija asked softly, studying him.
Antony didn't answer immediately. Yet the tension that had twisted his features moments ago had eased, and the storm in his eyes had settled. That alone was enough to loosen the knot of worry in her chest.
"The festival is in a month?" he asked instead.
As he spoke, he lowered her hands onto his lap.
