( honest? honest. maybe he'd wanted to be that kind of person, once upon a time: a person who could be so freely himself without worrying about what other people might think, or see, or without worrying about the huge secrets he's lugging around, covering them up with laughter and smiles like no one will ever see through them. she hasn't found them all out yet--no, she thinks he's honest, and that makes his gaze fall, almost guilty, though he's smiling despite himself.

after all, how can a guy not smile after hearing a girl like kyoko kirigiri call him special? it feels like his heart might burst.

but he doesn't want to get too taken away with it--he doesn't want to have to start blurting out an apology for being, actually, the opposite of everything good she thinks about him. so he perks up and tilts his head at her, smiling: )

Should we go see what kind of special clothes I have for your win? Maybe something that you can wear to bed, since...

( there's a vague hand gesture that seems to imply she might not want to sleep in what she's worn over. don't girls have special pajamas or--sleep in their--underwear? great, and now he's blushing. )

There's a closet upstairs. You can model for me. ( there we go. smooth. )