"It just feels sudden," he protests, and almost immediately knows what a stupid thing that is to say. They've been together for so long that they're basically married anyway, which is part of why this feels so completely out of the blue. "I mean, it's surprising," he corrects himself a little lamely. "We haven't been here that long, and..."
He doesn't like to think about the other Hawkes and other Anders' but he can't help feeling like he's being offered something that should rightfully belong to another man. Who is him, because his life is just that strange now, but probably treated Hawke better and was more essentially deserving of a lifetime with the man. Anders hates him. Which is par for the course, really.
It's possible the creeping doubt is starting to show in his eyes if not his entire mobile face, and he wishes he maybe had pushed Hawke out of the bed (as though the doctoring instinct in him would ever allow it so soon after he's woken up.) "Look," he says suddenly, looking away, and then catches what he's about to say and stops abruptly. Can I think about will only give him more time to think about it. Probably this conversation is becoming somewhat enigmatic, as Anders beats himself up for being so hopelessly broken that he almost went and turned Hawke down.
"I do like jewellery," he says softly at last, playing with Hawke's returning curls where his hand is still resting. He also likes Hawke. A lot. Beyond reason, even, and that feeling isn't what he's afraid of, it's having it returned.
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He doesn't like to think about the other Hawkes and other Anders' but he can't help feeling like he's being offered something that should rightfully belong to another man. Who is him, because his life is just that strange now, but probably treated Hawke better and was more essentially deserving of a lifetime with the man. Anders hates him. Which is par for the course, really.
It's possible the creeping doubt is starting to show in his eyes if not his entire mobile face, and he wishes he maybe had pushed Hawke out of the bed (as though the doctoring instinct in him would ever allow it so soon after he's woken up.) "Look," he says suddenly, looking away, and then catches what he's about to say and stops abruptly. Can I think about will only give him more time to think about it. Probably this conversation is becoming somewhat enigmatic, as Anders beats himself up for being so hopelessly broken that he almost went and turned Hawke down.
"I do like jewellery," he says softly at last, playing with Hawke's returning curls where his hand is still resting. He also likes Hawke. A lot. Beyond reason, even, and that feeling isn't what he's afraid of, it's having it returned.