I couldn't utter my love when it counted
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
He lets her take him by the face, skin tingling where her hands rest upon his lightly stubbled cheeks. With the pride of a soldier he meets her gaze, flushing slightly under the appreciative way she seems to look him over. The warmth on his cheeks only deepens as she tells him she can read his thoughts, and Safrin will be privy to a panicked surge of oh fuck followed by a desperate attempt to repress said panic and think only pure thoughts, which of course has him wondering what it might feel like to have those lips on his and----
Yeah. Sorry, Safrin, but telling a young man you can see into his brain is an easy recipe for self-implosion.
"I don't want to be any trouble," the boy says quickly as Safrin turns away, cheeks still hot, a lump in his throat. It's cold without her gaze, but also a bit of a relief; Koa feels his shoulders sag, runs a hand through his thick dark hair. Clearing his throat with a surreptitious laugh, the young man tries to recover from his embarassment. "Not that I think your radiance could be masked by any form. I am sure you would be the most dazzling of hags."
Very smooth, little Dragoon. Good recovery. 10/10.
Letting his hands drop to his side, Koa launches into his request. "I do not wish to waste your time, My Lady, so I will get right to it. As I'm sure you know, I'm a Dragoon." Pride warms his voice, as it always does. His spine straightens, copper eyes bright. "I've trained largely in close range combat, but I've learned of late that my ranged skills leave... a little to be desired." He grimaces self-deprecatingly, looking at his hands as they clench and unclench.
"I would like- that is, I was hoping you might see fit to grace me with some sort of item to extend the effects of my fists. So that whatever is in my hands - a knife, or a boxing glove, or even just my fingers -" He wiggles them demonstratively "- can be used on something that's out of reach. If, ah, that makes sense."
Yeah. Sorry, Safrin, but telling a young man you can see into his brain is an easy recipe for self-implosion.
"I don't want to be any trouble," the boy says quickly as Safrin turns away, cheeks still hot, a lump in his throat. It's cold without her gaze, but also a bit of a relief; Koa feels his shoulders sag, runs a hand through his thick dark hair. Clearing his throat with a surreptitious laugh, the young man tries to recover from his embarassment. "Not that I think your radiance could be masked by any form. I am sure you would be the most dazzling of hags."
Very smooth, little Dragoon. Good recovery. 10/10.
Letting his hands drop to his side, Koa launches into his request. "I do not wish to waste your time, My Lady, so I will get right to it. As I'm sure you know, I'm a Dragoon." Pride warms his voice, as it always does. His spine straightens, copper eyes bright. "I've trained largely in close range combat, but I've learned of late that my ranged skills leave... a little to be desired." He grimaces self-deprecatingly, looking at his hands as they clench and unclench.
"I would like- that is, I was hoping you might see fit to grace me with some sort of item to extend the effects of my fists. So that whatever is in my hands - a knife, or a boxing glove, or even just my fingers -" He wiggles them demonstratively "- can be used on something that's out of reach. If, ah, that makes sense."
Koa
And I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
totally sniped from odd ilu
