[ His attention diverts for only a moment, following Minea's movements - and the swords? - across the apartment before settling on the man slowly wrapping himself around him. Charley can smell so many things on him, odd and slightly off things he hadn't noticed before, but he can't focus on any one of them through his sweat. Physical exertion—what had he been doing exactly?
But he's quiet, fingers moving up to touch his cheek. His thumb slides over the cheekbone, still wondering at the differences now that his hands are his own original parts. ]
Always? [ Almost nonchalant, that word. His eyes flicker to the lone bowl he'd filled, and his mouth thins; it wouldn't do since Master had gotten himself so filthy. ] You should take a shower. I'll help you.
[ And without another word, he grips that wrist and forcefully drags him along. Steady, strong, and hungry. ]
no subject
But he's quiet, fingers moving up to touch his cheek. His thumb slides over the cheekbone, still wondering at the differences now that his hands are his own original parts. ]
Always? [ Almost nonchalant, that word. His eyes flicker to the lone bowl he'd filled, and his mouth thins; it wouldn't do since Master had gotten himself so filthy. ] You should take a shower. I'll help you.
[ And without another word, he grips that wrist and forcefully drags him along. Steady, strong, and hungry. ]