I can’t wait for him to touch her face in that way, this almost-not-a-touch thing he does, so gentle, so careful, that shows how much she means to him, how much he loves her, how much he cherishes her, how he never wants to hurt her, how he would never touch her against her will, or unkindly, let alone violently because there has been so much violence in both their lives, and he needs her to know.
I can’t wait for her to tell him that he is still a man of honor, that she is proud of him for standing up to them and staying who he is, who has grown into, through torture and hunger and pain, and that he is all she could ever have hoped for, and more.
I can’t wait for them to caress each other, lovingly, gently, carefully, always waiting for that tiny moment right before skin touches skin, to make sure the other is okay with being touched, now, by them. For them to caress and kiss each other’s imperfections, so they both know it’s okay and they are gorgeous inside and out, just the way they are.
I can’t wait for them to get completely lost in each other, in each other’s eyes, voices, bodies, for them to come to this point when you all but burst with joy and happiness over being with the person that completes you, that you love with your whole being, and that loves you back.
I can’t wait for Caryl canon.