[ To his embarrassment, the sigh that passes through his lungs when Yingxing removes that hand from his back... well, it's a little too noticeable for his liking, although there's nothing to be done about it once it's escaped his lips anyway. He tries to conceal it by nodding and moving at the same time, finding them a table to take, something not too close to the window for his companion's sake, while not being as cramped as those at the back are.
Once they're seated, he nods at the other—but quickly finds his attention drawn to the table, and to the packet of salt he snags from the condiment holder in the middle, playing with it in his fingers, and hating how much he loves the sound of "next time".
Still, he... ]
Next time...? You're making a habit of coming here, then. Isn't this somewhat unsafe for you?
no subject
Once they're seated, he nods at the other—but quickly finds his attention drawn to the table, and to the packet of salt he snags from the condiment holder in the middle, playing with it in his fingers, and hating how much he loves the sound of "next time".
Still, he... ]
Next time...? You're making a habit of coming here, then. Isn't this somewhat unsafe for you?