And there it was, an offering. It was subtle and quite and there, but he understood what it meant.

Essek needed to be the one to make the decision.

Was it still complicated? Yes, more than ever, but Caleb had made up his mind at least, in some form. By leaving it to Essek, there was the unspoken trust, a promise of belief in this drow that he was still surprised of. It was so difficult not to simply, blindly rush in, to be happy in this change of plans and the hand that touched him with such softness and patience.

But there were possibilities he needed to think of, the review of it all. They didn’t have the items in Aeor anymore; if this was wrong, there would be no way to fix it.

He closed the small space between them, kissing those lips chastely, gently. “I need time,” he whispered, lips brushing his. “But I am not opposed to this.”