[ don’t make his eyes go all watery too, come on . . . if eren hasn’t melted yet, he is now, and if he has? he’s well into evaporation. his smile is sweeter that heated sugar, a bit of sun in their night sky as he fixes his legs and adjusts his body to elliot’s enough where he could still stay close and play at the same time.
taking the guitar back into his lap, his free hand briefly strokes and almost squeezes elliot’s cheek. he could just— kiss you. he loves you. ]
A little something. [ he nudges elliot’s shoulder with his own, plucking a string or two and starting something really slow, minus vocals. it’s obvious that he’s a beginner; his fingers are a little stiff, awkward when trying to switch to some strings that didn’t feel natural— but it’s with heart. his fingertips have been stinging to get this right, even if he plays like a lard. ] I still need practice—
no subject
taking the guitar back into his lap, his free hand briefly strokes and almost squeezes elliot’s cheek. he could just— kiss you. he loves you. ]
A little something. [ he nudges elliot’s shoulder with his own, plucking a string or two and starting something really slow, minus vocals. it’s obvious that he’s a beginner; his fingers are a little stiff, awkward when trying to switch to some strings that didn’t feel natural— but it’s with heart. his fingertips have been stinging to get this right, even if he plays like a lard. ] I still need practice—