The delicate back-and-forth in the morning was an old and familiar predicament, one that had dogged (ha) him a year ago during the entanglement with his last pseudo-girlfriend. Or during his relationships in undergrad. Or the short-lived one from high school, even, but that only occurred in senior year — before then, he was an awkward and unsociable mess, not grown into his looks and far from well-adjusted with his reincarnate identity.
But at least within the comfortable confines of an actual, determined, categorised and labelled relationship, he could always lean over and reciprocate the embrace, or simply slide out from under the outflung arm without fear of startling them. It wasn't a big deal.
Here, of course, it was a Big Deal. Whenever he had a moment of remembering that they weren't simply friends, Aidan found himself reading into every word exchanged, each glance shared. That sudden awareness sent an excitable thrill down his spine, reminding him of what it was like to apply his persistence towards a relationship: he was slow and steady, but utterly unflagging. There had been times when he'd considered just kissing her already: while standing beside one another at the top of the mountain, right before heaving themselves onto the slopes and zigzagging their way back down. Or after she finished a song on her oulos, the firelight flickering off her skin. Or when they were falling asleep, mumbling last-minute thoughts to one another. (Latest instalment in adorable sleepy babble from the girl by his side: ruminating on the what-the-fuckery of Peter Pettigrew sharing a bed with Ron Weasley every night and how did his older brothers own the Marauder's Map for so many years and never comment on it?)
It could be nice, cinching the deal with this girl. He'd spent so long with his doors firmly shut to the world, only letting Maddie duck under that guarded exterior —
After a pause and another stricken what do I do?, then Aidan simply settled for resting his hand on hers, fingers curled over her wrist and thumb resting against her pulse.