...Those kinds of things occur naturally, or they don't, [Midousuji tries to answer simply, his arm carefully withdrawn back into his own bubble, slack as its other. it's not as if Midousuji could ever acknowledge wanting to get to know another person so boldly, but it's legitimately true that he doesn't have the impulse to seek that out in the wake of fondness for someone. indeed, he likes Aerith—and that's enough. he'll learn more about her, or he won't; that's not a ball he likes to assume responsible for being in his court.
but he does have a careful, puzzled pause, clawing his hand against his chin and lower half of his face. he tries to discern her, like this. what she's feeling, or maybe more importantly, why she's making faces like that.
he doesn't find an answer, but slowly, he extends his hand, and carefully, with his forefinger and thumb, he plucks the fruit from Aerith. silly. that was for her... he has more, though, so he doesn't fuss. Midousuji cups the clementine half, cradling it in his lap as he tilts his head, and, regrettably, asks the thing she finds she doesn't know how to answer.]
no subject
but he does have a careful, puzzled pause, clawing his hand against his chin and lower half of his face. he tries to discern her, like this. what she's feeling, or maybe more importantly, why she's making faces like that.
he doesn't find an answer, but slowly, he extends his hand, and carefully, with his forefinger and thumb, he plucks the fruit from Aerith. silly. that was for her... he has more, though, so he doesn't fuss. Midousuji cups the clementine half, cradling it in his lap as he tilts his head, and, regrettably, asks the thing she finds she doesn't know how to answer.]
But...what do you mean, "like that"?