[The teasing made Hob laugh, which vibrated through his chest where Dream's hand was resting. He always figured he'd start showing or feeling some signs of age at this point, but Death's spell was very effective at keeping him in the same form he was six centuries ago.

He liked the feel of Dream's hand on him, so Hob placed his hand over the other's and used his fingers to lazily trace over that hand. Following the curve from his wrist and up and down Dream's elegant fingers.]

Hmm.

[Not an easy question. He looks out over the park at the people, families and couples gathered. How they smiled and interacted with each other, or just got lost in the music.]

I think people have a lot of small, quiet moments that reveal who they are. When they think no one is looking. The mother touching her daughter's hair. Or that man, whispering into his partner's ear. They're not big, flashy displays. They're soft. Private.

[Much like the moment Hob was having with Dream under the tree.]