( he wants to tease her for it--he's gearing up for it and everything, his gaze crinkling a little at the edges, lips parted with a soft laugh, a snort of it, and then...then it just drains out of him. falls apart, like he can't quite catch the pieces; it's funny, really, that this conversation is something that he's been dreading for so long that now, with it in front of him, he feels the weight of all of that anxiety slam down and settle, rotting, in the pit of his stomach. it shows, easily, just as it shows through where they touch--the laugh that escapes this time is nervous, breathy, as he gives her fingers a squeeze. )
Oh, me? Y-you mean...? ( yes, he's stalling, and yes, it's obvious: still, he bends their arms at the elbow again, brings his free hand across to tap the wristband that's still neatly secured, obscuring everything. ) Yeah. I...
( he tries to remember that they're alone, tries to remember the sun on his face and how pretty she looks and that she's told him, too many times, that he's worth more than he thinks he is. he tries, and he really does believe her, in a way, that she sees things maybe he can't see about himself at all--but even so, he thinks that somehow, this will be the part that pushes her over the edge. this will be the part where she says she doesn't like him after all.
he nods his chin, absently: a breeze goes by, takes with it the smell of her hair and the lingering pollen there, like a wave of cool, calm steadiness that wars with the torrential downpour of his worries. )
Okay. That's fair, right? I can...I can show you, yeah. I can do that.
no subject
Oh, me? Y-you mean...? ( yes, he's stalling, and yes, it's obvious: still, he bends their arms at the elbow again, brings his free hand across to tap the wristband that's still neatly secured, obscuring everything. ) Yeah. I...
( he tries to remember that they're alone, tries to remember the sun on his face and how pretty she looks and that she's told him, too many times, that he's worth more than he thinks he is. he tries, and he really does believe her, in a way, that she sees things maybe he can't see about himself at all--but even so, he thinks that somehow, this will be the part that pushes her over the edge. this will be the part where she says she doesn't like him after all.
he nods his chin, absently: a breeze goes by, takes with it the smell of her hair and the lingering pollen there, like a wave of cool, calm steadiness that wars with the torrential downpour of his worries. )
Okay. That's fair, right? I can...I can show you, yeah. I can do that.