[ It takes concentrated effort to keep his fingers from trembling, and even more effort yet to not consider why they're so shaky in the first place, but he pulls it off. He fidgets momentarily at that hem before swallowing his breath, nails lightly teasing along sides to lift the shirt and pull it over Kanda's head.
What's more miraculous than the lack of shaking is the remarkable ability to train his gaze on the wall as he does this. Such an interesting wall. Nice texture. Good floating.
(As he stands, however, he gets a glimpse of shadowed flesh, and the stillness of his hands breaks, wringing slightly inside the now claimed cloth.
Yeah, he's not even going to attempt getting Kanda to change fully. It's entirely too hard not to stare and follow the lines of muscle to the waistband of jeans.)
Turning to deposit the dirty shirt where it belongs (on the floor), Lavi disappears momentarily to fetch a clean one, muttering a soft command to Noah to kill the lights. This he tosses back in Kanda's direction before clearing the joy from the bed, his normal propensity for humor twinging--there's a good joke to be had here--but ultimately going ignored.
Then unceremoniously plopping down on the other side (his side of the bed), he turns his back to the drunk, entirely too hot idiot and rasps lowly. ]
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What's more miraculous than the lack of shaking is the remarkable ability to train his gaze on the wall as he does this. Such an interesting wall. Nice texture. Good floating.
(As he stands, however, he gets a glimpse of shadowed flesh, and the stillness of his hands breaks, wringing slightly inside the now claimed cloth.
Yeah, he's not even going to attempt getting Kanda to change fully. It's entirely too hard not to stare and follow the lines of muscle to the waistband of jeans.)
Turning to deposit the dirty shirt where it belongs (on the floor), Lavi disappears momentarily to fetch a clean one, muttering a soft command to Noah to kill the lights. This he tosses back in Kanda's direction before clearing the joy from the bed, his normal propensity for humor twinging--there's a good joke to be had here--but ultimately going ignored.
Then unceremoniously plopping down on the other side (his side of the bed), he turns his back to the drunk, entirely too hot idiot and rasps lowly. ]
Glad you had fun then. Goodnight.
[ He sounds 0% sincere. ]