Garrett grins and takes Owen’s chin lightly, leaning in for a brief kiss. It ignites that ever present, barely suppressed hunger, and he pulls away with a gleam in his eyes.

“Yes,” he half-growls. “We’re going to-“

Wait. Stop. He cuts himself off suddenly, choking out words with great effort but greater determination.

“Where... do you want to go?”

Maker, that’s not easy. The tanglethorn wants badly to seize control of every detail here, and run roughshod over Owen’s will.