Owain curls up against Poe, chest to chest, eyes shut tight. It's that perfect blend of being warmed by another's body without it being oppressive, and he's drifting away, holding Poe as tightly as his spent and tired limbs will allow.
That urge - that urge to tell Poe he loves him - has been there for days, since before they even met. An undercurrent to everything they've done. Its never been stronger than it is now.
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That urge - that urge to tell Poe he loves him - has been there for days, since before they even met. An undercurrent to everything they've done. Its never been stronger than it is now.
He falls asleep before he can act on it.