[ against his palm now, falco takes just a moment to bring the thermos to his chest and press his fingers around the canister. he could feel it: warm. the edges of his lips pluck up almost only on one side as he tightens how they feel against his teeth. the result is a meek, but perhaps much needed smile, such a tug and tickle in his chest that his sliminess has gone dry. when he blinks and turns his attention to acknowledge both the gift and affection, the corners of purple hued sclera give of a less viscous formation of tear. one that quickly dries away with just a few more blinks. ]
Thank you . . . [ he’s just as warm as the mild in his hands. (he still can’t tell what he’s made; it’s a surprise) ]
How long will you stay?
[ the afternoon? nightfall? he had plans for either or others. he was just happy for this. he’s waited for this. this kept the monstrosity at bay. ]
no subject
Thank you . . . [ he’s just as warm as the mild in his hands. (he still can’t tell what he’s made; it’s a surprise) ]
How long will you stay?
[ the afternoon? nightfall? he had plans for either or others. he was just happy for this. he’s waited for this. this kept the monstrosity at bay. ]