Her touch felt cold compared to the flush of exertion that battled with the rising flight-or-fight response demanding his surface veins constrict to send more blood to major muscle groups. 'Thanks' is a signal. Thanks is an end.

She wasn't screaming, admirable and unsettling. He knew what it felt like, just simple touching where hands couldn't ever be meant to go. The uncurl of his fingers was quick, careful and eager, hand drawn mack and out before going around her shoulders to pull Van near in what was more a carry than a hug, but remained both. Don't let her go right now. She might fly away or vanish. She needs help, or to get home. Her poor feet and knees.

Titan held her, waiting and hoping for when stress and exertion combined to crash her into sleep. Then he could take her home. He knew where it was. Any alarm about revealing that by taking her thence was too far from his mind to consider.

wuthering gee