( It's strange, how foreign the sound of feet hurrying up after him are. Esikko notices it right away, a scratch at the back of his mind that's just uncomfortable enough to try and ignore. After all, the wrap of an arm around his waist from behind feels pleasantly possessive, and the little laugh that slips from him as he's guided along is so completely genuine that it feels— it feels like the sort of thing that might happen in a dream of his. A fantasy, actions not meant for him or normally aimed at him— but a dream is something where that's safe to be so. Here, the warmth of Dabi tucked so close to his side, and the words that wrap around him in sweet, over the top greed, are dangerous. He closes his eyes in a blink that lasts longer than it should, as if to extend that feeling, but then he's released, and the shocking difference of the emptiness at his side snaps him out of it.
He exhales softly, pressing into the room with an almost skipping step, like the energy might help him carry him through the moment without getting too stuck in his own head. )
No? ( It certainly has him beaming from the attention of it all, fleeting or not, and he flashes that smile back at Dabi with a little twirl of his steps. Like each one backwards is as inviting as it is distancing, curious to see if he'll stay in the doorway like he is. )
Well, I'd certainly have no complaints about having you all to myself, you know. ( His feet come to a stop in front of his wardrobe, where he turns to begin shuffling through the clothing he's managed to collect so far. ) But we might not have much in the way of dinner, if we stay here. I suppose we could order room service...
( He tosses one shirt, a nice, sleekly patterned button-up, onto the bed nearby. )
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( It's strange, how foreign the sound of feet hurrying up after him are. Esikko notices it right away, a scratch at the back of his mind that's just uncomfortable enough to try and ignore. After all, the wrap of an arm around his waist from behind feels pleasantly possessive, and the little laugh that slips from him as he's guided along is so completely genuine that it feels— it feels like the sort of thing that might happen in a dream of his. A fantasy, actions not meant for him or normally aimed at him— but a dream is something where that's safe to be so. Here, the warmth of Dabi tucked so close to his side, and the words that wrap around him in sweet, over the top greed, are dangerous. He closes his eyes in a blink that lasts longer than it should, as if to extend that feeling, but then he's released, and the shocking difference of the emptiness at his side snaps him out of it.
He exhales softly, pressing into the room with an almost skipping step, like the energy might help him carry him through the moment without getting too stuck in his own head. )
No? ( It certainly has him beaming from the attention of it all, fleeting or not, and he flashes that smile back at Dabi with a little twirl of his steps. Like each one backwards is as inviting as it is distancing, curious to see if he'll stay in the doorway like he is. )
Well, I'd certainly have no complaints about having you all to myself, you know. ( His feet come to a stop in front of his wardrobe, where he turns to begin shuffling through the clothing he's managed to collect so far. ) But we might not have much in the way of dinner, if we stay here. I suppose we could order room service...
( He tosses one shirt, a nice, sleekly patterned button-up, onto the bed nearby. )