don't get ahead of yourself, now. ( mirth is only captured in the way corner of eyes take a gentler form, a tolerance reserved only for the jests of a keen soldier. observance is generous when it comes to the other, immortalising
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an impressive feat, isn't it﹖ ❨ laughter bubbled in his throat as strangulation of the highest affections, dismantled by a mere palm to lips. ❩ ah———you remember﹖ a prize catch, as i call it. the dish itself uses
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see your family again. are they expecting you? ( caution is heeded, thick coat barricading the chilling cold. palm now tightens against other's, fingers seeking refuge between as he tugs him closer. both to rein back other's straying,
he is no stranger to a disrupted night. most nights, such as disturbance is brought upon by his own hands, but on other nights, slumber is frequented by alert and that of lurking threats.
a hand runs through tousled locks, now messily
are held between teeth. a curt glance is spared into the distance, pinpointing chilling howls as winery is left behind.
such incident has only furthered dissatisfaction, expression dimming with lingering austere. soon, he would close in
( a prolonged pause, digesting the topic at hand with hesitation. certainly not the vintner's first choice. )
there are eyes on you, unlike how it was with me.
( drink is served, with or without captain's obligation. still, the mixture demonstrates a practised expertise, a concoction that has grown familiar to both his hands. ) i do. at least, up until the conclusion of my duties.
⠀⠀( flutter of ebony lashes with eyeroll / brims jutted with pout. he's no stranger to late nights & earlier mornings; in fact, dancing that fine line is his specialty. )
"... diluc, owner of dawn winery. you may be familiar, given we have imports to nod—krai's local bars. you seem to be enjoying our dandelion wine, flins."
on the contrary, diluc handles the situation with poise, or rather, a lack of concern with other's perception. foreign visitor could very well have misaligned expectations. it isn't the first, and certainly won't be the last.
the moment diluc turned around and realization slowly hit the fae, his eyebrows raised in pure shock. well, that’s one way to meet someone new…
he sat down despite that embarrassment of an introduction, focus still aimed at the redhead.
“… it seems i’ve made a mistake. —
/ i need to write more diluc interacting with characters who literally would never meet him otherwise because all these dynamics have been robbed from me
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ah. ❨ the glass lingered within grasp, digits rasping at the corrugated edge; not... the 𝑓irewater he was expecting. ❩ am i the first one to try this﹖
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actions expedited before any pointless small talk is mustered, vice captain speaks an awful lot for someone who is fighting against an active wound. seems to be the trait of many knights. blood is halted by a heavy hand pressed against
palpitations drums in ears 𖬺͟ fingers twitches, feeble in his way, adrenaline subsiding and giving place to the aftermath of his reckless behaviour. “a hand would be nice,” hm. lohen is not one to accept aid regarding own wounds,