"What did you see?" Raphael asked. His voice cracked, and something new appeared on his face….
Fear.
Hermes never expected that being perceived could wound Raphael so deeply. Once, he might have been surprised, even confused by such a reaction. But the Hermes who had touched that memory knew better.
This man, who smiled so easily and carried himself with warmth, was far more haunted than anyone would guess.
Hermes reached forward instinctively, his fingers hovering close, the gesture soft and unspoken. Raphael flinched before he could make contact.
The rejection was small, but it was sharp enough to sting. Hermes let his hand fall back slowly and shook his head. His voice came out low, steady, almost tender in its restraint.
"Do not worry. I will not touch you if you do not want me to… unlike them."
Raphael blinked, the stutter breaking his composure for the first time. "W-what do you mean?"
