[Honestly, Pidge is pretty amazed that she managed to catch him. She half-expected him to find some way to worm out of her hold and start full on sprinting away from her. But he's still here, and she's gripping his wrist with both hands like she's pleading with him. Because she is. She's pleading for him to stay here for even just a moment longer, to be honest with her because that's all she needs from him.
Because if Lance had only wanted to kiss her on a whim, just because it's Christmas, just because he's a hopeless romantic and was feeling lonely or something... If he wanted to kiss her just because she's here...
But then she gets her answer, and her head finally snaps back up to look at him. And there's that wide-eyed, conflicted stare again; a swirl of disbelief and hope and wonder and fear. Her heart is hammering in her ears, and her grasp on him loosens, hands lowering until it's just the tips of her fingers curled lightly around the tips of his. It's a much lighter hold, but it's a hold all the same.
I like you. Does he mean that?
The heat in her cheeks only seems to get stronger. This is.. This is...
Too much. It's a little overwhelming. And when her brain is already rattling and buzzing as much as it is on a regular basis, adding in feelings, ones that are still so new and raw to her conscious mind, is just--]
I-- I think I need a minute. [She doesn't look away, at least. She gives his fingers a tiny squeeze, because she doesn't want him to think he's done something wrong.] Can I- I just... need to process.
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Because if Lance had only wanted to kiss her on a whim, just because it's Christmas, just because he's a hopeless romantic and was feeling lonely or something... If he wanted to kiss her just because she's here...
But then she gets her answer, and her head finally snaps back up to look at him. And there's that wide-eyed, conflicted stare again; a swirl of disbelief and hope and wonder and fear. Her heart is hammering in her ears, and her grasp on him loosens, hands lowering until it's just the tips of her fingers curled lightly around the tips of his. It's a much lighter hold, but it's a hold all the same.
I like you. Does he mean that?
The heat in her cheeks only seems to get stronger. This is.. This is...
Too much. It's a little overwhelming. And when her brain is already rattling and buzzing as much as it is on a regular basis, adding in feelings, ones that are still so new and raw to her conscious mind, is just--]
I-- I think I need a minute. [She doesn't look away, at least. She gives his fingers a tiny squeeze, because she doesn't want him to think he's done something wrong.] Can I- I just... need to process.