[Claude jerks to look at him with wide eyes for a moment, but recovers with a smile and shakes his head.] Nah, no need for that!
[He can't help plucking at his shirt, itching to take it off. The fabric of it now feels abrasive all over, not just over the mark.
He grits his teeth, determined now to prove that he's Fine, and they can continue with their plans. Whether it's sheer stubbornness or a twist of fate, he manages to eke out a win, and he grins. Clearly he's proved his point, and now Sylvain won't leave, because there's no reason to! (Why the idea of Sylvain leaving just now is utterly intolerable is something he's not willing to think about in-depth at the moment.)
He looks up at Sylvain, ready to claim his prize-- and he gets tongue-tied. It's not an entirely unfamiliar sensation, though it is rare. Normally he thinks up his question while he plays but he'd had to be so singularly focused on the game. He's got nothing.] Sylvain-- [And in that space of nothing, out comes a question that doesn't really fit their usual game.] Can I kiss you?
no subject
[He can't help plucking at his shirt, itching to take it off. The fabric of it now feels abrasive all over, not just over the mark.
He grits his teeth, determined now to prove that he's Fine, and they can continue with their plans. Whether it's sheer stubbornness or a twist of fate, he manages to eke out a win, and he grins. Clearly he's proved his point, and now Sylvain won't leave, because there's no reason to! (Why the idea of Sylvain leaving just now is utterly intolerable is something he's not willing to think about in-depth at the moment.)
He looks up at Sylvain, ready to claim his prize-- and he gets tongue-tied. It's not an entirely unfamiliar sensation, though it is rare. Normally he thinks up his question while he plays but he'd had to be so singularly focused on the game. He's got nothing.] Sylvain-- [And in that space of nothing, out comes a question that doesn't really fit their usual game.] Can I kiss you?