( she's more than welcome to have that talk with him, because he will deny all thoughts of livio as their resident teddy bear, but she is little one; his … little one … as this conversation seems to be going the way of, but he doesn't think he has any place to think anything like that, even if she's coming to him with her feelings and laying them bare. it's not his right, to claim anyone else like that.
moving right along! ahem!
he smiles softly at the first response she gives. ) I imagine you couldn't attract anything but good people. ( he pauses, brows furrowing, because yes, he realizes what he's just said and is going to make an addendum. ) Save for me. But we've been over your acceptance of me and everything I am … so I suppose that means you get a free pass, hm? ( he's trying to be funny, he's trying to keep his tone light but the fact remains that he still feels as though he'll never be able to atone for what happened in july. all those people, all those lives, not even including his own because he'd brought that on himself —
but he's not going to allow himself to spiral. not now. not when this is a good conversation.
the way she turns away from him is … undeniably endearing, as though she isn't entirely transparent and that's including the fact that he's terrible at reading social cues; she turns back to him, and he takes back one of his hands to trail his fingertips over the very edge of her jaw, a reverent sort of touch that goes to the corner of her mouth before that hand settles at the side of her neck, the flutter of her pulse bright and warm beneath his palm.
he doesn't say anything else, only presses his lips to hers in a semblance of how she had done the same during the masquerade, only unhindered by the stipulations of being released from a ( pardon the pun ) sticky situation; his lips are soft against hers, chaste in the way he first lays little pecks against the seam of her mouth and then kisses her properly, warm and inviting, giving her all the room she might need ( or want ) to steer the kiss in whatever direction she likes. )
no subject
moving right along! ahem!
he smiles softly at the first response she gives. ) I imagine you couldn't attract anything but good people. ( he pauses, brows furrowing, because yes, he realizes what he's just said and is going to make an addendum. ) Save for me. But we've been over your acceptance of me and everything I am … so I suppose that means you get a free pass, hm? ( he's trying to be funny, he's trying to keep his tone light but the fact remains that he still feels as though he'll never be able to atone for what happened in july. all those people, all those lives, not even including his own because he'd brought that on himself —
but he's not going to allow himself to spiral. not now. not when this is a good conversation.
the way she turns away from him is … undeniably endearing, as though she isn't entirely transparent and that's including the fact that he's terrible at reading social cues; she turns back to him, and he takes back one of his hands to trail his fingertips over the very edge of her jaw, a reverent sort of touch that goes to the corner of her mouth before that hand settles at the side of her neck, the flutter of her pulse bright and warm beneath his palm.
he doesn't say anything else, only presses his lips to hers in a semblance of how she had done the same during the masquerade, only unhindered by the stipulations of being released from a ( pardon the pun ) sticky situation; his lips are soft against hers, chaste in the way he first lays little pecks against the seam of her mouth and then kisses her properly, warm and inviting, giving her all the room she might need ( or want ) to steer the kiss in whatever direction she likes. )