[ ah that’s . . . that’s really all he needs. eren’s cheeks are burning a deeper color under the redness of his scales, but it isn’t accompanied with furrowed brows. if anything, there’s a smallest skips in his chest that works its way into a tumble in his gut, the kind that makes his lips curve and his teeth poke into them, enough that he has to adjust before he ends up biting himself, following onto the softer surface and laying his side down right in front of elliot’s. ]
I prefer it.
[ another bit of admittance, it’s not like he’d just stop being honest after making himself clear earlier, of all thing!
he doesn’t let go of his hand for one, and takes note of the feeling of the other’s palm pressed into his fingers. they’re . . . soft, taken care of, delicate and thin but highly skilled with the way they define so cleanly. ]
no subject
I prefer it.
[ another bit of admittance, it’s not like he’d just stop being honest after making himself clear earlier, of all thing!
he doesn’t let go of his hand for one, and takes note of the feeling of the other’s palm pressed into his fingers. they’re . . . soft, taken care of, delicate and thin but highly skilled with the way they define so cleanly. ]
Musician hands?
[ he’s getting eater at telling the difference. ]