[ There's a definite fondness to Wash's expression, here, and just -- a moment of weakness, again, a different kind of slip in control. He just looks back at him for a few long moments, before he squeezes Miles' hand in his own, lifting it slightly and leaning down to press his forehead against it, their fingers still laced together.
no subject
He closes his eyes. ]
This is helping. [ You're helping. ]