Beyond the inky fringe of mascara roped lashes, there was a gentleness. Even if it appeared as nothing more than a calm consideration. It was gentle, and Daniel might be the only person to have seen it in the better part of a decade. Not that he could know, or even recognize it for what it was worth.
Her steps fell to a stop just before him. Words were beyond them now, and Vaughn knew she didn't need them anyway. They'd been nothing but words, words, words for the past years of his incarceration. The silence was comforting now. Her grayscale eyes swept higher and higher, taking in the tired uncertainty of his stare. With a slow flex of fingers, lifted in such an achingly timed display of nonthreatening, Vaughn reached out and touched his arm.
It was momentary and delicate in it's distraction before she was crowding close. Dexterous as the darkness itself, catching him in a craven kiss.