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Saoirse had not realized she'd been holding her breath until she exhaled, anxious relief finally washing over her. Hesitation, dubiety-- what if all those nights she had spent thinking about him, curled up against him, struggled to properly convey to him just how much he truly meant to her, had been wrong? Misunderstood, misread... this swamped thing he was so very good at evoking from her had been difficult to understand because she had never felt it before, and couldn't put a name to it, but now... it didn't feel so overwhelming.

Grappling with how to set her mouth, feeling it pull up with happiness and pull down with the release of all this built-up tension, Saoirse felt her head begin to nod. How else could she respond? Her emotions felt caught in her throat, a fresh coat of exhilarated sweat had broken out onto her skin, and all she could think about, focus on, replay in her head, was his words. And his face, his beautiful face that she loved to watch and see the realist of emotions appear upon it. A fresh waves of tears budded as she attempted to collect all her thoughts into a coherent response.

Tears began to stream down her face again as she nodded, nodded feverishly while swallowing thickly. Wanting desperately to keep holding his hands, but knowing how much more she truly wished to touch his face, Saoirse loosed one hand to do so.

"I've never said that to anyone before," she rushed, clutching the side of Howell's face tightly. "I've never felt the way I feel for you about anyone else. Howell---" She wanted nothing more than to press up against him, embrace his warmth that she had become so accustomed. "I feel---" Saoirse continued to breath deeply, completely forgetting where they were, what time it was, how truly exhausted she had been. "You make me feel--"

She could not explain it, it could not be put into words. Or, maybe it could, but she by no means had the capacity to do it justice. But she didn't--- know. Saoirse fumbled for what to say, what to do, simply reaffirming her clutch on him, pressing her palms into his face, letting her fingers push though what bits of his hair they could reach.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," she began to murmur on repeat, pushing closer still to properly begin kissing his face. His jaw, his cheeks, his brow, his eyelashes, his lips--- oh, his lips.