[Unconsciously, he's sitting forward in his seat, eyes never leaving Kakyoin as he seems to naturally gravitate closer to him — at least, as much as he can without leaving his designated spot on the couch, from which he has not yet been authorized to move.]
Fuck, I'm — I don't want to say it wrong. What I think. How you look.
[Because that is very much not trousers and it's not a school uniform and it's not...masculine, but all the words he wants to use might come with connotations and he's not nearly artful enough — or coherent enough, even — to trust himself with all that right now.]
no subject
[Unconsciously, he's sitting forward in his seat, eyes never leaving Kakyoin as he seems to naturally gravitate closer to him — at least, as much as he can without leaving his designated spot on the couch, from which he has not yet been authorized to move.]
Fuck, I'm — I don't want to say it wrong. What I think. How you look.
[Because that is very much not trousers and it's not a school uniform and it's not...masculine, but all the words he wants to use might come with connotations and he's not nearly artful enough — or coherent enough, even — to trust himself with all that right now.]
You're...so pretty.