you are such a soft and messy thing, nobody knows how to take care of you
The purr the offer elicits was meant to be something internal, but it vibrates through her chest in a way that is plainly audible and can be felt in his own sternum where they relax against one another. Clearly, he has said exactly the right thing. "Deal. Just tell me what type of garment you think best fits in your hoard, okay?" The impishness in the corners of her mouth makes it clear she finds an article of clothing to be quite out of place amongst books and baubles.
Jabbing him in the chest with her finger lightly, narrowing her eyes at him, she tries not to let her mouth twitch to betray her amusement. "You're the only one who knows now, so if she finds out I'm coming after you." Or maybe just his books, that might be a better threat.
Sunjata's reaction is further disorienting, only confusing her further as she tries to parse both his face and their open bond to determine the reasoning for his question and response alike. Had she misstepped? Things are still so tentative between them sometimes that it's likely she might have, and her stomach chills with trepidation at the prospect. Especially when his arms loosen and drop to her hips. Hotaru can't help the way she moves both her hands to cling to his shoulders the moment he does, trying to keep that physical connection on her behalf. Only to go rather still as his explanation slowly unwinds, and realization sets in.
It's the hardest thing she's ever done to keep the bond open for the sake of their friendship and goal of honesty when she wants to slam it closed and physically distance herself from this realization. Instead he will feel panic, then deep shame and regret as she stares past his shoulder in the same way he does to her. "Shit, I - I'm sorry, I didn't know," she whispers, hands feeling clammy even with the gratuitous steam and heat around them. "I mean, I'm sorry if that feels like I'm pressuring you or forcing feelings in your face." None of the words feel right, only further betraying her and making it seem so much worse than she feels it has a right to be. But she has to be responsible about this, an adult or whatever. Things she has never been good at. "It won't intrude on this. On our friendship. I promise - it's something I'm accustomed to." She has lived with his ghost and these old feelings for years now. Unlike Isla, Hotaru knows this is a weight she can continue to bear. Hopefully he can tell her honesty through the bond, because she worries these are familiar, false phrases to him given recent events.
But he tries to make it lighter, and Ru will always try to meet him halfway. So she meets his eyes and smiles slightly. "Just know you'll always smell like sandalwood and vanilla, no matter what the magic makes people smell. Clove and leather sometimes - and a spice I can't always place." Tobacco, though she rarely smells it and it's too high quality for common cigarettes and cigars to help her make the connection. "Now you can write it down and always remember." Even if he can't smell it himself.
Jabbing him in the chest with her finger lightly, narrowing her eyes at him, she tries not to let her mouth twitch to betray her amusement. "You're the only one who knows now, so if she finds out I'm coming after you." Or maybe just his books, that might be a better threat.
Sunjata's reaction is further disorienting, only confusing her further as she tries to parse both his face and their open bond to determine the reasoning for his question and response alike. Had she misstepped? Things are still so tentative between them sometimes that it's likely she might have, and her stomach chills with trepidation at the prospect. Especially when his arms loosen and drop to her hips. Hotaru can't help the way she moves both her hands to cling to his shoulders the moment he does, trying to keep that physical connection on her behalf. Only to go rather still as his explanation slowly unwinds, and realization sets in.
It's the hardest thing she's ever done to keep the bond open for the sake of their friendship and goal of honesty when she wants to slam it closed and physically distance herself from this realization. Instead he will feel panic, then deep shame and regret as she stares past his shoulder in the same way he does to her. "Shit, I - I'm sorry, I didn't know," she whispers, hands feeling clammy even with the gratuitous steam and heat around them. "I mean, I'm sorry if that feels like I'm pressuring you or forcing feelings in your face." None of the words feel right, only further betraying her and making it seem so much worse than she feels it has a right to be. But she has to be responsible about this, an adult or whatever. Things she has never been good at. "It won't intrude on this. On our friendship. I promise - it's something I'm accustomed to." She has lived with his ghost and these old feelings for years now. Unlike Isla, Hotaru knows this is a weight she can continue to bear. Hopefully he can tell her honesty through the bond, because she worries these are familiar, false phrases to him given recent events.
But he tries to make it lighter, and Ru will always try to meet him halfway. So she meets his eyes and smiles slightly. "Just know you'll always smell like sandalwood and vanilla, no matter what the magic makes people smell. Clove and leather sometimes - and a spice I can't always place." Tobacco, though she rarely smells it and it's too high quality for common cigarettes and cigars to help her make the connection. "Now you can write it down and always remember." Even if he can't smell it himself.
