"Ow!" he shouted, and would have gone for the a piece of your hair touched me pretend-burn thing if.. her hair wasn't up and he wasn't fully clothed. In a long sleeved shirt, and sweatpants. He liked to be comfortable, what could he say? And there were no masks here, well sometimes, but not now sitting with Justine in dorky pajamas. There wasn't room for that, and there never would be when they were alone together.
He laughed at her, and leaned close enough to poke his fingers into her sides to tickle her. Of course, the moment he touched her the Hunger surged, and if their skin was touching it would have flooded into her, taken her, fed from her. But no, no it only rumbled and wanted and fought. His eyes turned a shade lighter and his skin gleamed with that pale monstrosity that was inside him, and the air cooled a bit more. But he wasn't feeding, he couldn't.
He just laughed again, shook himself off mentally, and forced away that pain. His eyes darkened again, his heart settled, and he leaned in to wrap his arms around Justine's middle, resting his head against her belly where nothing of him could touch her, or she him. He loved her.
Thomas loved her, and nothing would ever change that. He sighed.