sorry, viktor, he's. he's still there. even as they hobble along together, the warmth from within his chest spreads high to his face. it's not embarrassment, it's . . . pleasant warmth. not the kind to stain his face any shade darker. it's the kind that wrapped warm around him like a blanket. a blanket that he— quite suddenly imagines fixing around viktor after thinking he was cold.
you must be cold—
maybe he should stop imagining things, else that will feel embarrassing. but jokes on him! ]
-I'm, ah. Single.
[ he felt the need to make that known? even though it was already known??? jayce laughs after a moment under his breath. the both of them thought they were with someone else.
strange similarity. it makes him smirk, like a buffoon.
he was no doctor, so he couldn't exactly add to the color dreams, although they do sound bizzare in the best way. ]
For the record. Are you cold?
[ one thought is just leading to another. the evening was upon them. his damn imagination is playing wingman, isn't it?
if it was a hunch, he'd rather not ignore his hunches. the secret language of the invisible, and all that his mother still thinks. ]
no subject
sorry, viktor, he's. he's still there. even as they hobble along together, the warmth from within his chest spreads high to his face. it's not embarrassment, it's . . . pleasant warmth. not the kind to stain his face any shade darker. it's the kind that wrapped warm around him like a blanket. a blanket that he— quite suddenly imagines fixing around viktor after thinking he was cold.
you must be cold—
maybe he should stop imagining things, else that will feel embarrassing. but jokes on him! ]
-I'm, ah. Single.
[ he felt the need to make that known? even though it was already known??? jayce laughs after a moment under his breath. the both of them thought they were with someone else.
strange similarity. it makes him smirk, like a buffoon.
he was no doctor, so he couldn't exactly add to the color dreams, although they do sound bizzare in the best way. ]
For the record. Are you cold?
[ one thought is just leading to another. the evening was upon them. his damn imagination is playing wingman, isn't it?
if it was a hunch, he'd rather not ignore his hunches. the secret language of the invisible, and all that his mother still thinks. ]