[ She can tell. And she suspects that there are things still to know, information to process, and other realizations to come to. But she wants to know those things and understand with him. When he reaches for her hand, she covers his with her free one and lightly slides her thumb along the side of his palm. His admission feels like a spark of hope despite every manufactured moment and differences between them.
Keeping her hand in his, Claire stands and moves around the table to the chair right beside him. Now her free hand is against his cheek, holding his face in her hand, a perfect fit. It's a gesture that feels so familiar, and she tries to soothe away his frown with her touch. ]
What do you want, Jon Snow?
[ She answers his question with a question of her own. Has he ever been asked that, ever been able to ponder the question and ultimately choose himself? The hand in his squeezes gently in encouragement, but she doesn't let her believe it will be as easy as a simple answer. She has hope, but it's hesitant. ]
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Keeping her hand in his, Claire stands and moves around the table to the chair right beside him. Now her free hand is against his cheek, holding his face in her hand, a perfect fit. It's a gesture that feels so familiar, and she tries to soothe away his frown with her touch. ]
What do you want, Jon Snow?
[ She answers his question with a question of her own. Has he ever been asked that, ever been able to ponder the question and ultimately choose himself? The hand in his squeezes gently in encouragement, but she doesn't let her believe it will be as easy as a simple answer. She has hope, but it's hesitant. ]