[He hesitates, then nods - steps into the building and closes the door after them, leaving the place mostly in darkness, the only light that filtering in through the windows.]
[He heads toward the back and slips in through a door that opens with a press of a metal bar onto an empty stairwell, even darker; he digs his phone out for light and pads up in silence, past one flight of stairs, and then another, and then a third, before emerging onto another floor, equally empty as the ground floor.]
[ following the whole way - if hurricane won't hold onto the blanket then he'll do it, to keep it warm while he follows quietly; regardless, the entire time, he's holding his hand firmly ]
[He finally stops them in a tucked-away corner of the new floor, nearish a window but very much out of the way, blocked from view of the stairwell by placement of a wall.]
[ surveying it himself - of course, there's nothing furniture wise for them to hide behind, and in his esteemed opinion if they're to be safe they should have the phone light off too, but it won't matter all that much anyway. from here - yes, like this -
it's a little high. he left his sword on his bike, in favor of looking more harmless to hurricane; if he needs it, he'll have to run down . . . so he'll need his eyes. the light will be necessary, then, so he can use them.
giving a nod after the brief moment of looking around, and he says, casually, ]
I suppose there aren't any closets around here, are there . . . ?
[ before he looks to the corner, looks up to him - in askance, does he want to sit first or should he? ]
anyway, shifting a little, carefully neutral and casual in his expression while he adjusts himself and then presses his torso against the other's - softer, different, though his scent is still the same ]
I don't think the Game Tower is really residential, either . . .
[On the one hand, he does not often get the level of physical contact he wants, and this is... actually really nice. The weight, and the heat, and the feel of someone else there settles something inside him a little. He didn't even have to ask for it, which brings its own host of anxieties and insecurities.]
Re: day 170
Here's fine?
Re: day 170
[He shakes his head, a little.]
Re: day 170
Then - lead the way?
Re: day 170
[He heads toward the back and slips in through a door that opens with a press of a metal bar onto an empty stairwell, even darker; he digs his phone out for light and pads up in silence, past one flight of stairs, and then another, and then a third, before emerging onto another floor, equally empty as the ground floor.]
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
I guess... here's good?
Re: day 170
it's a little high. he left his sword on his bike, in favor of looking more harmless to hurricane; if he needs it, he'll have to run down . . . so he'll need his eyes. the light will be necessary, then, so he can use them.
giving a nod after the brief moment of looking around, and he says, casually, ]
I suppose there aren't any closets around here, are there . . . ?
[ before he looks to the corner, looks up to him - in askance, does he want to sit first or should he? ]
Re: day 170
...nah.
Pretty sure this place wasn't residential.
[He kills the light on the phone - hesitates, then goes to tuck himself into the corner.]
Fire escape's out the window, if we gotta go.
Re: day 170
[ pulling the blanket around hurricane's shoulders again before, yanno, very casually sitting on his lap
as you do. ]
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
anyway, shifting a little, carefully neutral and casual in his expression while he adjusts himself and then presses his torso against the other's - softer, different, though his scent is still the same ]
I don't think the Game Tower is really residential, either . . .
[ in a soft voice, musing ]
Re: day 170
Uh. Y-yeah, I guess - I guess there's probly a closet or two in a building that big, huh.
Re: day 170
[ inclining his head to rest it against the other's shoulder, letting his head tilt so his breath ghosts hurricane's ear ]
Well, if you're comfortable, it's fine all the same.
Re: day 170
[Closes it again.]
[Finally manages, with effort:]
This isn't, like. Too much...?
Re: day 170
I'm fine, but is it too much for you?
Re: day 170
[On the other hand,]
It's. It's kinda, like...
Re: day 170
Am I too heavy?
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Is it my current form, then?
Re: day 170
That's got nothing to do with it.
Re: day 170
Is it that my lips are too close?
Re: day 170
That's not it, either.
Re: day 170
Then, what is it?
Re: day 170
[Hhhhesitates.]
Close. Y'know?
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170
Re: day 170