He didn't care about grace at that moment, which was shockign on it's own. There was a constant humming, a vibration bertween them, a plucking bowstring wound too tightly, threatening to snap as the two of them strained to maintain their composure. What good would it do to wail and sob and clutch and plead? They had already suffered their separation - Seimei far longer, but they made it, didn't they?

Besides, the only thing Seimei could think of that would truly do away with the tension he didn't think either of them were really prepared for. They hadn't even really managed when they did have each other, privacy and a home to share. Besides that, the onmyoji observed somewhat bitterly, he was ill equipped to provide for a modern youth's passion. He had observed and read a great deal over the centuries, but garnering any experience of his own would have been an unforgivable act, dishonoring his loyalty and devotion to a love he refused to sully.

That didn't mean his mind wasn't a tangle of what-ifs when he lowered one hand, resting it over the arm clutching against him.

Oh how glorious it was for his imagination to become reality, for every dreamed-of touch to be solid.

"Perhaps we can, who can say? I would gladly suffer this blister of a city for the rest of forever if it meant this would go on," he murmured, fingertips brushing back and forth across Kaoru's wrist as he closed his eyes with a sigh.

Ah, love. How he had missed feeling anything, let alone the purest emotion of all.