Who said it would be easy...
St. Valentine's Day is, for the first time in Thorn's life, a holiday of deep and meaningful significance. He has spent the first half of February in a constant state of mild panic, building to this day. Courtney has had less time for him, concerned over her uncle following a rather harrowing encounter with a daemon. The state of Thorn's relationship with her remains indeterminate, in part due to his own anxiety and uncertainty. They have yet to move beyond a bit of hand-holding and the occasional peck on the cheek. Sitting close together, even fully clothed in all his layers, makes Thorn feel as though every fraction of skin warmed by her presence is tingling. The sensation is at once both wonderful and overwhelming. It is also, although he does not know the proper term, an largely psychological effect.
It frustrates him that he cannot communicate how difficult touch is, when he has spent nearly all his life, even from babyhood, deprived of it.
On St. Valentine's Day, Courtney receives an embarrassingly large vase of red and white roses, a box of chocolates, and a large box of assorted teas for her ailing uncle. These are delivered by a bored, teenage courier from her own town, who lingers just a moment as if hoping for a tip. Thorn himself is afraid to drop in unexpectedly, under the circumstances. Her uncle scares him far more now that he is, in his own mind, very nearly courting her.
It frustrates him that he cannot communicate how difficult touch is, when he has spent nearly all his life, even from babyhood, deprived of it.
On St. Valentine's Day, Courtney receives an embarrassingly large vase of red and white roses, a box of chocolates, and a large box of assorted teas for her ailing uncle. These are delivered by a bored, teenage courier from her own town, who lingers just a moment as if hoping for a tip. Thorn himself is afraid to drop in unexpectedly, under the circumstances. Her uncle scares him far more now that he is, in his own mind, very nearly courting her.