As he listened, he had a bit of a sinking feeling about the chest. Drystan hadn't known she was feeling such discontent, or he'd have tried to do something before. What he would have tried to do (or, for that matter, would attempt to do now), he wasn't sure, but he felt helpless at the idea of her being unhappy, and had to know it was somehow within his power to fix it. At the very least, in an attempt to make up for letting it escape his notice before. For perhaps being in part responsible? He didn't know.
"Hey," he said urgently, lifting his hand from hers to nudge her face gently back towards his. He craned his head down slightly to look her in the eyes. "Never apologise for wanting more."
That was a sentiment he was familiar enough with, and could never fault another person for having. Drystan was fortunate that what he did for a living had a goal that reset itself every year. Flying was a release for him, and though the game was burdened with a thousand other things that could easily bring a man down, it never left him purposeless. He'd felt such an emotion in other parts of his life often enough to be grateful that it didn't dictate his life.
He dropped his hand to take one of hers, bringing the palm to his lips and kissing it before holding it back to his chest. "We'll put our heads together. We'll figure something out."
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