Enver feels something in the other man grasping on, a need, but not necessarily the same force behind it, and even after all this time, he can feel that and adjust accordingly, matching that energy without overwhelming. Before long in their meetings, rather than take that as a signal to be analyzed, to suss out potential and meaning, he would have received it as a need to find an openly to quietly question. To keep them both upright.

It was never allowed to be just a moment to be still, to unfasten the tighter strings they kept on their behaviors. Not without the context of the bedroom, anyhow. Not without being especially careful. Not without keeping it brief and then rectified.

That constraint is...gone.

"At the moment, I'm not certain I care." For anyone else that would seem dismissive. But all Enver Gortash does is worry about what is coming next and whether every step has been covered, carefully mapped, a good deal of time in advance. "...I never thought I would feel that way. But if you're here, I'm not sure it matters."

Dawn will come and with it clarity, he's sure. It will matter again in some form.

A small, quiet laugh, more at himself than anything. "You spend so much time thinking of all the things you were never able to say, what you would if you had the chance and I've lost so much in the recent -- just not having enough time to try, and now I feel like I've gone blank. Where the Hells does one even begin?"