Noah knew what stilted sentences meant, it meant that there was so much more behind them that couldn't be contained in words. Noah tilted his face to the side, pressing a kiss to Krem's collarbone in an attempt at comfort. His fingers trailed lightly along Krem's back, mapping an idle line.

"He must be a good man. You'd been with him for nine years? Almost a decade."

That also meant Krem was nearly thirty. The realization should have bothered him, maybe, but it was nothing more than a passing thought. Age didn't mean much when time didn't.