See I'm never gonna quit, got my legacy set in motion
The punctuation of her palm, joined with the little streaks of adorable outrage on her face, completely undoes him. He shakes with a laughter that doesn't bother with noise, melting into a broad smile as an "oh really?" lifts up in a small, disbelieving answer. "Aren't you just," he murmurs, all his fondness and agreement for that label of her fluttering across like glitter in a sunlit breeze.
It takes a moment for the reality of the label to sink in, the dawn of it slow but consuming, gaze widening with the slow stretch of it. Her hot take she says, cementing it, and breezing past the continued moaning and groaning of their missed chances (that still ended in a win), he gawks. "Wait, for real?" A happy, stuttering sort of sound rises from his chest as he grabs her arm. "That's gonna make some KILLER merch!!! I can see the flowers and flames now." Indeed, his gaze goes a touch glassy with the distance of imagination.
The excitement of that lends to some of the speed with which he hauls them back to their feet, aggressively shutting down any more moping like it's deeply offensive to the both of them and he'd not be letting her or him offend either of them any further. "That's the problem," he complains, too much warmth heating it for it to be real. "We can't both be dumb at the same time. One of us has to be in control of the braincell." Which, seems to be him right now. "Next time you show off a happy memory, you better tickle me if I get sad, and I'm gonna pinch you if you get sad." He'd rather the retaliation and anger than the cold, claiming thing of melancholy.
Pulling her flush to him with his hands at her hips, no ounce of hesitation to the draw as her arms ring his neck, he smiles down at the returning flash of her bright joy. "That's better," he says, tone gentling back into something that can afford to stay between just them, and maybe a few spirits with good hearing. "It'd be my pleasure," he says with a peck of a kiss to her nose before he reaches lower to grab her up, deftly tugging at the natural bend behind her knees to steal her balance into the cradle of his arms. With her legs draped around one arm, her lower back tucked into the other, he descends the last few stairs and heads to their room. "The only cheeks I want any sand touching are on my face," he agrees with a seriousness that the moment hardly calls for.
"Well, even though you can do that now," he considers as they cross into the room. "We need to commemorate this with a photo. That way I can remember it clearly even when you aren't around." Which, wouldn't be often, all things considered. Still, the camera on the dresser gleams with all the invitation of this being a milestone to put on their memory board too.
It takes a moment for the reality of the label to sink in, the dawn of it slow but consuming, gaze widening with the slow stretch of it. Her hot take she says, cementing it, and breezing past the continued moaning and groaning of their missed chances (that still ended in a win), he gawks. "Wait, for real?" A happy, stuttering sort of sound rises from his chest as he grabs her arm. "That's gonna make some KILLER merch!!! I can see the flowers and flames now." Indeed, his gaze goes a touch glassy with the distance of imagination.
The excitement of that lends to some of the speed with which he hauls them back to their feet, aggressively shutting down any more moping like it's deeply offensive to the both of them and he'd not be letting her or him offend either of them any further. "That's the problem," he complains, too much warmth heating it for it to be real. "We can't both be dumb at the same time. One of us has to be in control of the braincell." Which, seems to be him right now. "Next time you show off a happy memory, you better tickle me if I get sad, and I'm gonna pinch you if you get sad." He'd rather the retaliation and anger than the cold, claiming thing of melancholy.
Pulling her flush to him with his hands at her hips, no ounce of hesitation to the draw as her arms ring his neck, he smiles down at the returning flash of her bright joy. "That's better," he says, tone gentling back into something that can afford to stay between just them, and maybe a few spirits with good hearing. "It'd be my pleasure," he says with a peck of a kiss to her nose before he reaches lower to grab her up, deftly tugging at the natural bend behind her knees to steal her balance into the cradle of his arms. With her legs draped around one arm, her lower back tucked into the other, he descends the last few stairs and heads to their room. "The only cheeks I want any sand touching are on my face," he agrees with a seriousness that the moment hardly calls for.
"Well, even though you can do that now," he considers as they cross into the room. "We need to commemorate this with a photo. That way I can remember it clearly even when you aren't around." Which, wouldn't be often, all things considered. Still, the camera on the dresser gleams with all the invitation of this being a milestone to put on their memory board too.
Kaisel
I've only just begun, I won't stop until it's done
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
