There are moments where it seems so easy for him to take her concerns and send them away. Not dismissively, but gently, as if sending precious cargo down the stream to be tended to at another posting, later on. Not now. Now he only wants her to smile, and that makes her want to smile, so much that it hurts her cheeks even as tears threaten to sting behind her eyes. Only just behind, though.

With his unwavering presence, there's color beneath the shroud.

Vanessa does look for long while he talks, and then long after. She commits to memory the tremble of his lips when he speaks with conviction and tenderness. When he quiets, she lifts her other hand to press her thumbnail just below that lip, her fingertips gently grazing beneath his jawline. Ssshh. There he goes again with his dangerous sweetness.

Her thumb caresses beneath his lower lip, tracing the indent so softly it could be the tickle of air, and she'll indulge herself just enough by leaning up to brush her lips to his cheek in another soft, lingering touch.

"Cake, then. Why wait?"

Immediately, she's pulling away, which will also mean trying to tug that one hand free, so that she can show him where the cake in the kitchen is. That's twice he's brought it up, and that seems a more sensible indulgence than anything else.