[ It seems like Oona is always laughing at him, but then again, the people who edge into his heart have always been that way. Generous with their smiles, willing to reach out. Circumstances have often been unkind, and he hadn't been afforded— or he hadn't afforded himself— the liberty of reaching back, of tentatively lacing fingers in fingers.
A part of him apologizes for what he's doing. Sorry, is what he repeats over and over in his mind, as if acknowledging can make it less punishable.
One hand on Oona's back traces back up the length of her spine, travels along that curve to settle between her shoulderblades. The way his fingertips vibrate when she laughs reminds him of the rumble of thunder. ]
...Yeah. That too.
[ What are you even doing, you stupid eel... aka here it is, after 500 years of tsun, the one second of dere. ]
But you already know you're beautiful, so it's not much of a compliment.
[ Let's try to pass this off as an insult...maybe that will make this less embarrassing. ]
no subject
A part of him apologizes for what he's doing. Sorry, is what he repeats over and over in his mind, as if acknowledging can make it less punishable.
One hand on Oona's back traces back up the length of her spine, travels along that curve to settle between her shoulderblades. The way his fingertips vibrate when she laughs reminds him of the rumble of thunder. ]
...Yeah. That too.
[ What are you even doing, you stupid eel... aka here it is, after 500 years of tsun, the one second of dere. ]
But you already know you're beautiful, so it's not much of a compliment.
[ Let's try to pass this off as an insult...maybe that will make this less embarrassing. ]