“Jump down. Did you miss me?” Jumping from the wagon is difficult on his numb, shaky legs, and he staggers on landing, right into Rakos’s embrace. He clings to Rakos, inhaling, until he steadies himself—but still doesn’t let go. Rakos doesn’t let go either. His grip moves hesitantly from Bellamy’s arms to his shoulders. A hand in his hair, one stroking gently down his back. Like they’re bound into purely physical communication. “Yes,” Bellamy murmurs into Rakos’s broad chest. “Yes?” Bellamy’s hands tighten in Rakos’s coat. “Yes, I missed you.”
