"It did feel a bit like magnet and lodestone," although he'd never call them polar opposites. They run along same veins. He has known that from almost the first, too.

He nods. Crais was fire to his cooler temperament, yet for some reason they never triggered one another over it or clashed. It was one of the least acrimonious friendships he has ever experienced with such profound differences. He believes he could think on it a hundred years and still not fully understand the strange alchemy that allowed it.

"Oh, I don't doubt we would." The left corner of his mouth curves. It doesn't last long.

He gives it some thought before nodding. He could bury himself in work easily. It's his go-to whenever his equilibrium is upended. As he's started to learn, the go-to isn't necessarily the best coping mechanism. It's only the most familiar.

Closing his eyes, he slides his temple against her cheek in a soft nuzzle before stilling. He can let himself be held, and the world won't end, no matter how much habit tells him he's wrong. "I'm glad you're here," he murmurs. Doubtless she can feel it. He doesn't want to fall into the habit of allowing things that should be spoken to remain internal simply because of the bond.