“I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And Sassenach," he whispered, "Your face is my heart.”

“And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.”

“Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul”

“Cold,” he said, pressing a finger to my pale wrist.“Not cold so much as underoxygenated,” I said.“I love it when you talk medical to me,” he said. He stood, and pulled me up with him, and did not let go of my hand until we reached the stairs.”

“I turned around slowly, and looked up at him. He stiffened and sucked in a shallow breath. After a moment, he touched my cheek."Such naked pain," he whispered.I turned my face into his palm and closed my eyes. His fingers threaded into my hair, cupped my head, and brushed the brand. It heated at his touch. His hand tightened at the base of my skull and squeezed, and he raised me slowly to my tiptoes. I opened my eyes and it was my turn to inhale sharply. Not human. Oh, no, not this man."Never show it to me again." His face was cold, hard, his voice colder.”

“He stared up at me, and even as the house fell apart around us, even as drops of fire rained down from the sky, his hand raised and brushed a lock of hair out of my face, and I felt his stomach rise as he breathed in deeply.“You,” he whispered. “You’re a boy?” His hands cupped my face, and a tear streaked down my cheek onto his fingers. “I dreamt of you but… but I never thought…”