[Hob would not have been surprised if Dream recoiled from his hand. In 1889, the moment he upset his friend, he wanted to reach out to the man and make things right, but Dream was walking away from him before he could get the chance. It was nice to have that chance now. To offer a reassuring touch. The response he actually gets from his friend is more than he hoped for, and it puts a relieved smile on Hob's face as he felt Dream's long, graceful fingers move between his own.
His brow raised as Dream pointed out the lack of a beat in the wrist he was touching. He supposed it made sense. Dream was not human, after all.]
Bother me?
[He smiled, then collected Dream's hand and drew it toward him. The hand is placed against Hob's own chest, over his beating heart.]
That should've stopped beating a long time ago. I don't exactly count myself as normal anymore.
no subject
His brow raised as Dream pointed out the lack of a beat in the wrist he was touching. He supposed it made sense. Dream was not human, after all.]
Bother me?
[He smiled, then collected Dream's hand and drew it toward him. The hand is placed against Hob's own chest, over his beating heart.]
That should've stopped beating a long time ago. I don't exactly count myself as normal anymore.