The room was dark, the only thing visible to him was the dim glow of the white eye lights the other had. His lips felt numb as he held his breath, the soft touches of the ivory fingertips only spreading the buzzing numbness to his cheeks while feeling those fingers move slowly down his neck. Over to his shoulders. Down his arms, until his fingers finally went up into the rim of the glove.

     Template winced, almost bracing himself as he forced his hands to remain still even if his fingers twitch a little, fighting against himself; he felt Pale's fingers go under and slowly push one of his gloves off and away. Fear had slowly started to consume him, filling up in his hypothetical lungs and flooded up over to his throat that struggled to let out those shaky breaths.

     Eventually, he couldn't hold himself back any longer, letting his instincts kick. His fingers curled into his palm as if to defend himself from letting the glove slip. But by that time his glove was almost entirely off, only being barely held by his knuckles. It only took a small bit of force until it was fully off of his hands and to be set beside them both.

     Even though the room was purposely made so dark it was hard to know where anything was and that he was completely clothed aside from his gloves, he felt so naked and exposed. Although he couldn't see anything other than the light deep within the other's sockets, he could see it, he could just sense it. The deep red tips that would have been so noticeable with any source of light or lack thereof and the color quickly changed from a crimson red to a bright yellow that could grasp the attention of every one of his surviving victims if he dared go out to find Core's hidden place, and then finally ending with a black palm, giving him the subtle reminder that he is a part of this, a reminder he refused to think of and wished to cover once more.

     He was only moments away from calling this whole thing off, already ready to yank his hands away and grab his gloves before he was distracted with a pair of foreign and cool fingers press against his own in a slow yet comforting pace. Template's hands were sweaty, rather from the gloves he wore or because he was a nervous wreck, and his fingers had graciously parted from one another to press against the mildly cold fingers which were oddly soothing. Think about the fresh cooling feeling you have gone flipping the other side of the pillow.

     He didn't even know he was staring down at where their hands were supposed to be until he gazed back over at the light gray ovals that seemed to survey him, looking deep into his soul. They both focused directly at each other as their hands became closer together, both palms pressing against one another as Pale let their fingers intertwine.

     At this point he was speechless. No, that wasn't a good word for it. He was thoughtless. A thoughtless little idiot for even suggesting this idea. He did feel safe and comfortable with Pale, he wanted to be safe and comfortable with this, and all he got were sirens blaring in his head. Yet even with that, he kept persisting, curling his fingers until they just so barely touched the back of Pale's hand. Pale gave him a gentle squeeze, causing a jolt from the other and a huge spark of anxiety. But after some calming down, he returned the small pressure back onto his hands.

     "Don't worry," Pale barely whispered, his thumb soothingly brushing the back of his hand. Template let his defenses down as he repeated the action back onto his lover, letting his other hand join Pale's as well to hold them tenderly.

     This may be the one and the only opportunity this would happen or this might be the first of a million times where they did this, though at the very least he had this small moment of complete trust with Pale where nothing else really mattered.