[It's a very simple noise, that "hm". As if it could encapsulate the rush of feeling down his spine at the caress of her finger at the nape of his neck, as if it explains how suddenly conscious he is of how close she is against him.]
[He suddenly feels very, very small, skewered into this moment, wishing he was more drunk than he is than this light buzz that curses him with awareness.]
[The tips of his ears feel a little warm at the compliment.]
What are you saying? [His voice feels as rough as sandpaper.] Trustworthy? I don't have anyone who...has my hands, Miss Weiss.
no subject
[It's a very simple noise, that "hm". As if it could encapsulate the rush of feeling down his spine at the caress of her finger at the nape of his neck, as if it explains how suddenly conscious he is of how close she is against him.]
[He suddenly feels very, very small, skewered into this moment, wishing he was more drunk than he is than this light buzz that curses him with awareness.]
[The tips of his ears feel a little warm at the compliment.]
What are you saying? [His voice feels as rough as sandpaper.] Trustworthy? I don't have anyone who...has my hands, Miss Weiss.