[ Celegorm's eyes close for just a moment, his hands moving now to cup the backs of Legolas' hands, urging the full pressure of his palms. At the same moment, he leaned forward a little, rubbing his cheeks against the sensitive skin like an affection-starved cat.
And like a cat, those pale eyes open again, slits of colour beneath black lashes, drinking in Legolas' attention. ]
Must a thing be wise to be good?
[ It has the rub of a tease, thick and slow and low as a purr, and his fingers smoothed down Legolas' hands, lightly touched the backs of his wrists. ]
It was no more wise for me to save you, after making a sure enemy of you. It was no more wise for me to seek you out. But how much of life grows only out of wisdom? Is passion any less valuable?
no subject
And like a cat, those pale eyes open again, slits of colour beneath black lashes, drinking in Legolas' attention. ]
Must a thing be wise to be good?
[ It has the rub of a tease, thick and slow and low as a purr, and his fingers smoothed down Legolas' hands, lightly touched the backs of his wrists. ]
It was no more wise for me to save you, after making a sure enemy of you. It was no more wise for me to seek you out. But how much of life grows only out of wisdom? Is passion any less valuable?