Those ghostly, gray eyes flutter shut at the feel of my hand on his cheek. I cup his face, timidly, tenderly, as I silently marvel at the feel of him against my palm. His jaw is set, and a muscle feathers in it as I slide my thumb across his cheek. He ducks his head, eyes still squeezed shut so he doesn’t have to meet mine. “Look at me.” My command is both soft and stern, sure and shaky. My other hand is on his face now, helping to guide it back up to meet my gaze.
