[ Unless push comes to shove, their preference is always to be respectful with one another, a wordless gentleness in making space for the other's decisions. They'll offer their opinion, unguarded; but ultimately both John and Harold have settled into a relationship where neither one pushes the other.

It makes things slow, delicate... and now Harold sees that if he really doesn't want to put a step wrong, but also isn't content to retreat into passivity, it needs to be coordinated.

They need to communicate, like a dance, so they don't step on each other's feet. ]

Well. I have several more things on my list, as it turns out. [ He's always wanted more than John, always looked for more and strived for it. But for now-- ] Like breakfast, for one. Let's at least eat what you've prepared before we move.

[ He steps away, breaking their handhold, but there's a lightness to Harold now, a scrap of hope peeking through that hasn't been seen in months. He's tired, exhausted really, but there's a direction to move in now. He thinks of Root: I know who I am, and where I'm going. He'd never really been certain of that before, had he? He still has some of that left to figure out. ]