[ For all the anxiety he'd kept to himself over what this moment might look like, how it might feel to outright say what he's hidden in actions as a whisper of three important words, it all disappears now. What's left is peace even as Hilda looks at him with something in her face he can't quite interpret. There's the feeling that he should know given he's learned so many of her expressions by now, but - what it is eludes him until suddenly a pillow meets his face.

At that he has to laugh even if it's muffled to let her protest ring out loud and clear, but it doesn't dissuade him as much as she might've hoped it would. ]

Are you saying I shouldn't look at you while saying them?

[ That makeshift barrier's swatted away playfully to let the words not get lost while it's pushed up somewhere over their heads against the headboard as Claude links his fingers through hers after. A familiar grasp for more than just here, though it's certainly very familiar to now when he uses their hands to very loosely pin hers back against the pillow beneath her head. All the better to swing a leg over her hips to hover above her with an entirely shameless grin. Shameless especially since they both know she could move him aside with one hand quicker than he can blink, but useful until that happens. ]

That's fair enough. I can think up plenty of other ways to get my point across.

[ Like first by leaning down to kiss her cheek made all the warmer by the flush bright enough to be seen even in the dimly lit room, for a start. More follow from there in an unplanned constellation across her face. Next is down her neck to complete the path he'd began along one shoulder earlier but now on the opposite one while he continues on with words between each bit of affection imprinted along her collarbone and lower where he'll continue on his meandering path until interrupted. ]

The same ways from before still meaning all the same things. Even if I'm not looking at you, I still love you.