( in spite of still being damp, and having been in the rain all day dorian's throat becomes a little too dry when alistair touches him like that. it's too chaste to be vulgar. and, that's what has him reeling. internally, anyway. gestures like this strip him bare faster than anything. no matter how he's quick to claim he is a wonder and everyone is lucky to know him. because, this is real. too genuine. this isn't alistair telling him some sweet nothing to get dorian to do something for him. he's not that manipulative. dorian knows that kind too, too well.

dorian knows he could make this all go away with a handful of simple words. but, he hesitates. does he want to? or, would he rather push and see how far something like this can go? does he want to do that, though? he runs the high risk of ruining the rapport between them either way. old hurts are keeping him on the defensive. they're building another reinforced wall around his heart. what is he meant to do?

a gentle hand curls around alistair's wrist. dorian's thumb is the only thing that can touch skin, and he finds that a pity. armor. always complicating things. his lips twitch up into a humble smile. it isn't one dorian wears in front of others if he can help it. )

Not nearly as much as they should.

( even as he says it, dorian feels a little...exposed? his tone lacks the certain bluster it has when he's being self congratulatory. blank honesty makes him nervous. but, he pushes on. )

I suspect no one's said how remarkable you are. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.