[ there's no resistance or outright rejection. just an easy surrender — even with the underlying hesitance that keeps his fingers from settling, mostly fidgeting with uncertainty, against mydeimos' skin. but as the other man speaks, a pleasant thrum spreads across his palm, a strangely grounding thing. phainon doesn't want to admit to how it makes him feel ( like home, at peace — something he hadn't felt since aedes elysiae ); it's easier to study mydeimos' face in typical earnest, his fingertips absent-mindedly, slow and methodically, tracing the patterns on his chest as he listens — then with a lift at the corner of his mouth, a raised brow, just briefly: ]
Are you really implying that you'd rather be entangled with somebody else than I in a conversation like this? [ but it's a frivolous question with an obvious answer. better candidates do exist, ones who won't allow themselves to remain bereft for long when delivering tidbits of a present not yet experienced by others. if mydeimos were to affirm his words to be true, phainon wouldn't hold it against him anyway. ]
No matter, be it brief or indeterminate, our farewell has been reduced to naught for the time being. I suppose there isn't a need to squander it over what cannot be changed... However, I'm willing to tell you whatever you're interested to know.
[ his palm shifts, a gentle glide upwards until his fingertips ghosts along collarbones, reaching for the markings there, near the curve of mydeimos' neck. phainon's cheeky enough to be this audacious as if issuing a wordless challenge of trust, where it actually begins and where it ought to end. but there's an underlying tug that drags his attention elsewhere — of touch being more of a necessity that rarely found its place beyond that boundary. with mydeimos, everything has a purpose: a favor granted to a fellow comrade in order to remedy the disorganized frenzy his thoughts once were prior to allowing him this. ]
I am curious though. Who would you prefer encountering first in an unknown world such as this?
no subject
Are you really implying that you'd rather be entangled with somebody else than I in a conversation like this? [ but it's a frivolous question with an obvious answer. better candidates do exist, ones who won't allow themselves to remain bereft for long when delivering tidbits of a present not yet experienced by others. if mydeimos were to affirm his words to be true, phainon wouldn't hold it against him anyway. ]
No matter, be it brief or indeterminate, our farewell has been reduced to naught for the time being. I suppose there isn't a need to squander it over what cannot be changed... However, I'm willing to tell you whatever you're interested to know.
[ his palm shifts, a gentle glide upwards until his fingertips ghosts along collarbones, reaching for the markings there, near the curve of mydeimos' neck. phainon's cheeky enough to be this audacious as if issuing a wordless challenge of trust, where it actually begins and where it ought to end. but there's an underlying tug that drags his attention elsewhere — of touch being more of a necessity that rarely found its place beyond that boundary. with mydeimos, everything has a purpose: a favor granted to a fellow comrade in order to remedy the disorganized frenzy his thoughts once were prior to allowing him this. ]
I am curious though. Who would you prefer encountering first in an unknown world such as this?