oleaeuropaea (
oleaeuropaea) wrote2023-07-01 03:00 pm
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[Ryslig] INBOX
WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, NEEDLENOGGIN FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 *** NEEDLENOGGIN has joined 018.07.154.55 <needlenoggin>hiiiii you've reached vash!. <needlenoggin> i'm probably sleeping or eating right now so leave something for me and i'll get back to it! | ||||
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[He'd never want someone to walk the same path he had. He'd never want anyone to know the same suffering. But finding someone that wasn't unlike him has been a relief. Yes, he still thinks Pure Vanilla is miles better than him, but...
He knew what it was like to fail.]
And you know, the same is true for you. That you have people there for you. [He wouldn't live with Sparkling if they weren't close. Vash barely thought he knew the other cookie, but still he had been there when the faerie had needed him.] We haven't known each other long, and I'm... pretty bad at keeping people at an arm's length but. I'm here.
[It's the least he can do. And hell, maybe he just wants to have some inkling of companionship.]
And, uh... Thank you, for everything.
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Vash offering the same to Pure Vanilla makes the Minotaurs smile blossom more. Something that seems like it's more familiar on his face than all his softer half smiles and unsure ones. Like the man is more at home beaming and laughing.
Maybe that tiny bit of gin is finally soaking into the lightweight, and relaxing him, as well.]
There is no need to thank me, but if you insist, then please accept my thanks as well. I promise, should I have a need, I shall call on you. And I agree. When I say my friend, I truly mean it. I'm afraid there is no shaking me once I have decided.
[Maybe he's decided they should no longer dwell on the past. It will haunt them, forever. He knows this, and he can speak of forgiving themselves all he wants, but late at night, when it's just them in their beds and they're trying to sleep. He knows the nightmares will come.
So he's going to focus on the here, the now, on making this moment as friendly and pleasant as possible. He squeezes Vash's hands, and aims the smile like a sunbeam at him. Steer the conversation away from pain.]
And since I have deemed you my friend, please tell me more about yourself!
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And yet he's still wanted? What is he meant to do with that.]
Friends, then.
[Has he ever used that word? It's been a long time, if he has. It doesn't feel so bad, though. The usual dread that comes from getting close to someone doesn't well up within his chest like it usually does. Maybe it's the alcohol? For all his years, he might have thought himself a little sturdier than all of that, but he won't complain.]
I - don't really know what there is to tell! I'm not all that interesting, honest! [He laughs, every bit as awkward as he feels. Which means it's a terrible time to realize he's still clutching at Pure Vanilla's hands.
He lets one drop, but doesn't let the other go just yet. He'll give his friend the choice to do so.]
I like donuts and pizza a lot. I'm pretty good with a gun, but I've never used to it kill anyone. Wait is that too morbid? Maybe, sorry -
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That isn't morbid in the least! A good friend of mine was quite skilled with a gun himself, as though my world is mostly peaceful, we still have to fight off monsters, so it's quite handy to know how to use weapons!
[Reaching out with his free hand, he finds his tea cup to bring it back up to his lips, angling himself as he does to be a little more body facing Vash. He ends up kneeing Lavender, causing the cakepup to awaken with a start and give them both the most scrunked look a cakepup can give. He hops down and waddles off to find someplace else to rest. Rude.]
Oh, your food is similar to this worlds! Unless your pizza happens to be sweet pizza? Tell me of your world, if you are all right speaking of it?
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Exactly. And there's plenty you can do with a gun that doesn't involve really hurting someone. Like - pew-pew! [He pantomimes the motion up toward the ceiling with his free hand.] At some pipes, and then you have a distraction while you get away!
[He miiiight be speaking from experience. And speaking of things he might be doing, he might just barely stifle a chuckle as he watches that poor little Cakepup trot off. Maybe he'll see about scrounging up a treat for the creature before he heads out.]
No, no. Pizza's pretty normal. Though I'm sure someone likes it sweet? [He pauses for just a moment, sobering as he tries to figure out what to say about his home. It's hard to talk about it, without getting tied up in his own feelings about the place that he damned all of humanity to.]
It's, uh. Dry. Pretty warm. Settlements are few and far between. Some are tightly knit little villages, others are pretty big cities. I've seen most of them in my time. They're all interesting in their own rights, though!
[How long has it been since he's talked so openly with someone. He's shared a few brief, lighthearted moments with the younger monsters. But now that he feels known, it feels easier to talk about other things, too.
Or maybe it's just the gin.]
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Ah! That's quick thinking, and a brilliant strategy! Minimizing the amount of physical damage done, while providing additional cover!
[And maybe he will keep the 'sweet' pizza of his homeworld to himself. Jellybeans with cream cheese, after all... He's quiet, respectful, as he listens to Vash describe his world. A large desert planet?]
It sounds quite like the Sugarfree Road. Dry and hot, a desert of reds and oranges, barren but beautiful with its twisting cliffs. There are a few villages out there, waypoints for Pilgrims, and each one is as hospitable as the next.
[His voice is wistful as he speaks, and he leans back into teh couch, his arm pressed against Vashs, their hands still clasped between them. He sips at his tea, before smiling against the porcelain cup.]
This world must be quite a surprise for you.
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I've learned the hard way, on how to get out of trouble. I'm... kind of a wanted criminal where I'm from. [Should he have said that? He squints toward the teacup, barely sipped from. Was he truly becoming that much of a lightweight, or was he just that comfortable.
better to not think about it. He leans forward as best as he can without jostling their intertwined hands, so he can have another sip.]
Not that I've actually done anything. Mistaken identity, honest! That... and being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And maybe being a bit of a disaster.
[Bit by bit, the morose air that had surrounded Vash on his arrival begins to peel away. This feels as close to normal as he's gotten in some time.]
That really does sound beautiful. I don't even think I mind the desert. The cliffs are nice, and the darker sand is - pretty. [Even if the place most known for its red hued sands are something of a bad memory.] From the way Sparkling has described your home, it really does sound beautiful. Magical, even.
[He trails off. Pure Vanilla isn't the only one gripped by a wave of melancholy, it would seem.]
Back home, the only way I ever saw trees were in contained biodomes. Life isn't sustainable on the planet we're on. Humanity wasn't even supposed to end up there. And now that they are, we have to do all we can to make sure they survive, without wearing too hard on what little resources they have.
[But that's getting too serious again, isn't it. He shakes his head, just forceful enough to rustle the hood of his jacket.]
You should have seen me, when the rains started last month. I'd never see anything like it.
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Of course, mistaken identity. It happens often?
[The fact Vash knows Sparkling isn't a surprise, Sparkling is friends with everyone, and he feels proud of the fact. It's only fitting, the other Cookie is beyond charming. Pure Vanilla's head tilts a little to 'bio-domes', and he images a greenhouse. A place of life in amongst a barren land. It's lovely in his minds eye, even if he's slowly beginning to lose the details of what things look like.
And his expression is downright tender as he images Vash doing his best to help. Through all his perceived flaws, through mistake identity and being wanted... he keeps trying to help.]
I can imagine. To be taken from a world where water is scarce or even non-existent, to a place where it's found in abundance. I quite understand being shocked!
[He smiles in memory to his own arrival, and how strange it was for a few months after. Crossing his legs at the knee, he settles his cup on one, beaming as a thought comes to him.]
I assume this means you have never experienced ice?
[Winter is coming...]
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He finds it in himself to snort alongside Pure Vanilla.]
It does! I have a twin brother, so I guess it's easy to get the two of us mixed up. [He knows how the twin excuse sounds. He's been laughed off several times as a result. But every time he just pouts and insists its the truth. Pure Vanilla might even hear said pout in Vash's words.]
It's a good kind of shocked, I think. Or maybe even a little sad, too. This is what life should have been like for us.
[He pauses just a moment. He knows what snow is. Rem had spent plenty of time explaining the world she'd left behind and its many beauties. But beyond reading a few books and seeing pictures, he's clueless. The best he has for physical experiences is ice cubes, and even those were fleeting out in the far reaches of the desert.]
Never. Not when it comes to the climate, at least. Does it get pretty rough in the winter, then?
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He sobers a little as he thinks of Vash's world, when he says that's how life should have been like. No hardships. No struggles. A world of life, of peace. Everything in abundance, and no one wants for anything.
The ideal. He squeezes Vash's hand tightly, and offers him a smile.]
I know someday your world will reach that life. Keep faith, and keep aiding as much as you are able.
[And once Vash confirms he's never seen ice? Oh, the Minotaur perks, his ears standing upright like little excited exclamation marks.]
Sometimes, though I have yet to experience a bitter cold here. However, you must let me take you ice skating when the lake freezes over. It is an experience one must try at least once!
[And that's nothing to say about snow ball fights, or snow angels, or snow huts.]
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And if that little laugh hadn't done so, the squeeze offered to his hand certainly would. He permits his own little chuckle, before interrupting it with a sip of his tea. The taste of the gin mixed with the natural, herbal flavors is starting to grow on him.]
I'm trying. It's just not an easy process. It'll take decades before some of our ideas will be ready to implement. And until then, people will suffer.
[He shivers at even the mention of the world "suffer." That other self had utterly perverted the word, using it as a calling card to cause harm. And yet despite Vash balking at the idea, he could just as easily see where the line of logic had come from.
He shouldn't dwell on it, though. Not when he's enjoying himself. Not when it's behind him. He should focus on the conversation at hand and - ]
Ice... skating? [He balks, albeit with no small amount of amusement.] That sounds like a recipe for disaster. I can barely stay on my feet when the ground is solid!
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He sort of regrets asking him about it, but only because it seems a sore subject.]
Hm! I must admit, I am not that great myself, but that means we can learn together! Of course...
[He lifts the leg that was draped over the other, somehow managing to avoid whacking the table with it, to show off his hoof.]
It does not help when these are your feet. You will not be alone in slipping and sliding, my friend!
[His tea is gone, and so is the gin he added to it. So if he decides not to sit back upright after leaning in against Vash, well. Sue him. At least his wool is soft, clean, and smells of vanilla.]
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In the end, Vash finishes off his tea and sets it aside, in hopes that the remaining dregs of liquor will steel his resolve. And when they do, he opts to lean against his friend in kind. There isn't too much weight — it's a gesture that can easily be ducked out of should Pure Vanilla have moved in by accident.
He hopes that the minotaur won't, though.]
I can't even imagine putting ice skates on those. [His voice lowers, not yet a murmur, but something more fitting for their close proximity.] Or would you just slide around on your hooves?
[He chuckles at the idea, but he's careful not to jostle his companion too much.]
I guess I can't complain too much about the lack of coordination with my gangly limbs.
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And truthfully, it's just simply nice to lean against someone, and share warmth and camaraderie with them. With their hands still tightly laced together.]
... I wonder if I can. There are quite a few cobblers around who have had experience with us hooved Afflicted.
[He ponders the idea, head tilted as if he can see the waffle coned patterned keratin. Visions of breaking his ankle come to mind, and he snorts softly.]
However... it may yet be safer to simply stick with my hooves.
[He lowers his leg and ha's! softly, not at all minding the little jiggle from the chuckle.]
Nonsense, you may complain all you desire. It sounds like you were not given many chances to develop something more spatially aware of yourself and your limbs. Have you ever danced?
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But he cuts off those thoughts before they can continue. The scent of Vanilla keeps his muscles relaxed, and the casual conversation gives him something to focus on beyond his swirling, spiraling doubts.]
Mm. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt. [He puffs out a laugh.] Imagine trying to explain it to anyone. Breaking something while trying to each a friend to skate? I don't think we'd live it down.
[Vash tilts his head back, though not so far as to leave Pure Vanilla's space entirely. He just needs to stare at the ceiling and think a little.]
You might be onto something, you know? I grew really fast and - [He cuts off, then starts laughing outright.] And I never explained any of that to you, huh?
[He shakes his head, leaving it at that for now.]
I haven't. Not formally, at least!
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Let us both strive to avoid breakage, then. Bruises will be on par for the course! As well as bumps, I am sure! But do not worry about me getting hurt, I have taken my fair share of injuries!
[How many shields he failed to get off in time while a fresh faced adventurer? Crunched and cracked dough. He shakes his head a little and tilts it when he feels Vash shift his back, ears twisting towards him as he mentions growing up fast? Literally? Something for a later moment to ask about, as Vash moves on from it quickly.
But the reply? That no? Makes Pure Vanilla beam.]
Then, let's fix that, shall we? There's is no better time to learn to dance! You never know when it will come in handy!
[Forewarning.
He finally lets go of Vash's hand, after another brief squeeze, so he can push himself to his feet.]
Please, give me a moment to change into something less bulky [His sweater is beginning to overheat him finally] and feel free to remove your jacket?
[He'll move off into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. It won't take him long to remove his bulkier outer clothes and switch into something lighter, a flowing shirt and a similar flowing cotton pants, that swish around his legs as he moves back into the living room. And he quite easily pushes his coffee table out of the way, the couch following suit, before moving over to his record player to pick some music.
You're in for it now, Vash. Pure Vanilla is nicely gin'd and in a mood.]
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Wait - huh?
[He waits there, stock still, for a moment, trying to piece together what's just happened. His head admittedly feels a bit foggy from the last, quick gulp of booze. Were they really planning on dancing, right here and now? Vash is already wincing at the coming bruises. It's a small miracle that Pure Vanilla has no toes to be stepped on.
In any case, Vash had been told to take his jacket off, right? He gets to sliding it off, carefully folding it up. He's still in the process of gingerly tucking it into place when Pure Vanilla returns. While the minotaur fusses with the music, Vash works on rolling up his sleeves as best as he can.
He already feels warm enough as it is.]
Are you sure about this? I don't want anyone to come running if one of us falls over!
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[There's a little bit of wistfulness in his voice, as he sets some nice classical onto the player, flipping it on and setting the needle down. His ears flick lightly as he moves away, over to where he heard Vash's voice.]
And we will be starting small. The waltz box step, which is the basic for all waltzes.
[He reaches out, then pauses, head tilted in thought.]
It is much easier to learn while being led, but I understand some people are uncomfortable with it. I can easily direct you while allowing you to lead, if you prefer.
[Either one, he's finding one of Vash's hands with his own and stepping in close. His other hand hovers, waiting for Vash to decide on what he'd like, so he knows where to place it.]
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[Pure Vanilla probably has the mannerisms for it, now that he's thinking about it. Now that it's out in the open, though, Vash can't help but feel as if he's been horrifically informal. Not to mention dragging his friend through everything else that he had only the week prior.
But Vash swallows that need to belittle himself down. Not for his own gain, but to avoid Pure Vanilla having to put his mind at ease.]
Right. A waltz. Got it. [He's pretty sure he knows what that means. He's been around for enough years that he should have an idea. But now that he's thinking about it, and feeling both the pressure and panic, he can't seem to think straight.
It only gets worse as Pure Vanilla steps inward. They'd only just been holding hands and slumped against one another, but that had felt casual. Accidental, even. There is intention behind Pure Vanilla's motions, he wants to be closer to Vash. And that means that in the back of his mind, he can't help but panic. He shouldn't be doing this. Vash the Stampede didn't get close to people — he only got them hurt.
Moreover, why does his face feel so hot.]
I should - ["Go," is what part of him wants to say. There's a not-insignificant voice in his head screaming at him to turn on his heel and go. Yet his feet remain firmly planted in front of Pure Vanilla, hands lifted up in uncertainty as he tries to figure out not where to run to, but where to place them. He'll blame it on the gin, later, for clouding his mind.
But really, there's a much larger part of Vash that just wants to be here.]
I should follow. If I lead, it's going to cause us more problems.
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[And Pure Vanilla would snort and tell him to not even consider treating him formally, if he knew Vash's internal dilemma. Once upon a time was indeed once upon a time.
The pause after I should makes him tilt his head, the smile on his face questioning. Like he can sense the other monsters desire to bolt, and wouldn't hold it against him if he did. But when he decides on follow, the smile softens into something sweeter.]
Stop that.
[He reaches to take an opposite hand and set it on his arm, setting the palm of his hand against the back of Vash's shoulder. He's incredibly careful not to brush the base of a wing. He recalls what his wings felt like when touched, and how intimate and frankly pleasing the sensation was. And now it's his turn to turn incredibly red as he tries not to think about that. Instead he clears his throat and extends their clasped hands outwards some. The traditional waltz position.]
You are not causing problems, nor will you cause problems, and you most certainly have not caused me problems before. I do not see our time together as problematic, nor will I ever. I adore your company, even if we are just getting to know each other.
[Oh, huh. That was a little forward. Vash isn't the only one suddenly feeling a little warm, as Pure Vanilla mulls over his words, before blurting.]
My apologies, that is very ah... blunt. And forward. I did not mean to- [Just blurt it out. Pure Vanilla closes his mouth. This is why he doesn't drink alcohol.] -overstep any boundaries.
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As Pure Vanilla's hand settles, he may or may not pick up on something missing. The Vash's shirt does give rise to his lower wing on the right side of his shirt. However, that same tension is lacking on the left side. Any further investigation would reveal that the lower left wing was gone entirely.
Probably nothing strange! And nothing Vash seems keen to comment on, though that might be because he's presently very distracted by the things Pure Vanilla says.]
You - [Vash has gained friends throughout his years — both on the Ryslig Penninsula and back home. While those here have usually been more mutual, the companions back home have been begrudging, sometimes on both parts. And none of them would ever go as far to say that they adored being around him.
He wants to argue it, of course. Pure Vanilla barely knows him. But Vash can't deny that he's in the presence of a kindred spirit. And even if they weren't themselves just a week prior, there were still enough commonalities (warped though they were) for him to be intrigued.]
No, no. It's - thank you, for saying that? [His words come out staggered and stuttered. His cheeks, previously pleasantly warm, now blaze bright and hot. He closes his eyes for just a second, before opening them to try and match Pure Vanilla's hands. It's a little awkward, considering the dual set of arms he now possesses, but he makes sure not to make Pure Vanilla crowded with the set.
The closeness, especially after such a confession, feels a little intimate. It's the kind of contact Vash hasn't allowed in years.]
I don't usually get close to people. Bad things tend to happen when I do. [His fingers tighten against Pure Vanilla, just a little.] But - I like being around you, too. And... hey, at least you can defend yourself if anything bad happens? I'd think twice before taking a headbutt from you!
[Sorry, not gonna let you live that down, buddy.]
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I promise, I do it as gently as possible!
[He gently shifts his position slightly to the left, so they're no longer just standing awkwardly close, blushing and holding onto each other.]
Feel free to look down as we go, it will better help you get an idea of where to place your feet. Step back with your right, as I step forward with my left.
[And as he shifts his weight, he continues speaking, his voice soft under the music.]
And do not blame yourself for things that are not in your control. Events will happen, both good and bad, and you cannot take the weight of them all onto your shoulders. You cannot cry one day, then point to a typhoon that happens somewhere and say My Fault. We may all be cogs in the way the world works, but we are relatively small cogs. The world you live in sounds harsh, and unforgiving, and I know in my heart, the bad things that happen are not because of you. Swing your left foot back and off to the left, as I bring my right foot forward and to the right.
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Despite his best efforts, his footing does start to wobble after a moment, but only because he laughs at what Pure Vanilla has to say. They're heartfelt words, and Vash does take them to heart, but he can't help but be amused all the same. He angles his head upward, still trying to not think about how close they are, or how warm his face is or how good his friend smells.]
Guess it's a bad time to tell you what they call me back home, huh? [Another puff of a laugh, even if it sounds faintly giddy at the edges. That has to be the alcohol making a mess of him.] Vash the Stampede, aka "The Humanoid Typhoon."
[He laughs one final time as his head bows downward. His eyes close, lost in thought as they continue to step with one another.]
But it's hard not to. Not when it's more clear cut than a typhoon some hundreds of miles away. [He exhales through his nose.] I'm not tryin' to be stubborn or anything, though. And I don't want to waste your time arguing, either.
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[Of all the analogies to make! Pure Vanillas steps wobble a little as well as he laughs, his expression half mortified and half amused.]
I am so sorry...! Right foot in against your left.
[He keeps their movements slow, letting Vash get used to the simple step slide step. It also keeps them both from dwelling too hard on any negative, not while they're half focused on moving.]
And nonsense, we are not arguing, we are having a discussion while we dance. Now step forward with your left, slide with your right.
[His ears slowly relax down into a contented flop. When was the last time he had danced? How long was his time in the Void? It's soothing, the motions familiar, the closeness something that he doesn't get when he leans in against Sparkling. In fact... Vash is the second person he's ever been this close with in quite some time.]
I do understand, however. [He wants to step in closer, but he restrains himself. Barely. There's a bit of a sway.] To blame yourself despite circumstances being out of your control... I said I was a King, once. A great enemy rose up and struck my Kingdom while I was away. She destroyed it, killed my subjects, and caused the others to flee. The guilt wore on me for years. I blamed myself for the loss of life, for the terror they were inflicted. It took me a long while, and with the help of some friends, to realize I cannot do that. I can mourn for the events that took place, but I cannot blame myself.
[And now he does sort of lean in, his forehead lightly tapping against Vash's in the softest headbutt. He originally means it as a show of camaraderie, of understanding, but he ends up letting it linger. Rests their foreheads together.]
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[And honestly, Vash's laugh is light. The earlier, flustered giddiness seems to be fading fast, but the warmth remains. He feels lighter than he has in years as they move. It's an unburdening of a different sort than the one they had experienced together previously — one without trauma or pain.]
I guess I'm just used to these things happening more messily. [Like when he and Wolfwood had argued in the midst of a gunfight. Or any of his fights with Nai. The people of No Man's Land, or at least the ones Vash associated with, weren't really good at expressing themselves.] It's nice to just... talk.
[Vash feels that sway and shifts his hand, clasping just a little as he tries to keep his partner steady on his feet. That hand remains there as he listens to Pure Vanilla's tale, something of a comforting gesture as he takes it in.
They really aren't that different.]
I'm sorry that you know that feeling too. But I guess I'm also glad that you found people to help you through it, too. [Maybe in time, Vash might find that same camaraderie.] But it wasn't your fault that someone came after your kingdom. For me, I — [His voice wavers.] I'm the one that put the ability to hurt those people into someone's hand. And even then, everywhere I go people wind up hurt, even when I try to -
[He trails off as their foreheads clunk together. He blinks several times, hardly processing what had just happened. All at once, he feels that same giddiness float back in. His stomach twists in a way that isn't entirely unpleasant, even as he frets over whether or not his glasses are in the way, or digging into his companion's forehead and -
Since when did his head spiral like this?
He doesn't say anything more, just reels in the proximity, and in the fact that he doesn't at all dislike this position.]
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