[Such a simple touch burns, leaves traces of warmth where long digits pressed to the back of his own hand, held it captive against the curve of a sharp jaw. This heat that sparks beneath is touch nothing more than the fever running through Lavi, the perfect scapegoat to hide behind.

Even so.

He can't remember a time over the last three years where he's seen this man, his partner, so open, utterly unguarded - more than enough reason to stay the sharp lash of his tongue, to keep him from pulling back into a swift retreat.

Instead, he simply watches the way that smile seems to soften Lavi's features, makes him look younger, relaxed despite the exhaustion trying to take it's toll from him. His gaze lingers on the press and glide of the hand over his, watches as Lavi turns into the touch, the way his fingers trace a flushed cheek, feels the weight of those digits as they slide across the back of his hand before falling away entirely.

But it's the sound of knuckles tapping against the seat that visibly jolts Kanda sharply back from his distraction, brings him back to this moment with a slow blink and an exasperated sigh.]

You always talk nonsense. How is this any different?

[That said, he finally pulls his hand back from Lavi's face, his thumb unconsciously tracing dangerously close to the corner of his partner's lips before completing the retreat.

(He's not going to let his thoughts linger on the expression already etched into his mind, or the trust inherent in an intimate touch. Not if he wants to keep his sanity and their ever shifting boundaries in tact)

Reaching behind Lavi's neck, he steals the now warm cloth and then bends down to a knee, makes swift work of dipping it back into the water and wringing it out once again. This time, he folds it down and places it back over Lavi's forehead.]

Besides - I'm not worried. Even if you tried spouting that nonsense, no one would believe you.

[That's not entirely true though. Not anymore. Not with so many ghosts from his past determined to resurface...]