PCs with Gerome

[swordhandled]

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[swordhandled]

[ follows after him! ] What is it?

[maskarang]

[ it takes a bit but he does find the stupid paper and holds it up to owain. it reads:

"Without failure, there can be no growth." ] Before I tripped, I found this.

[swordhandled]

... A fortune?

[maskarang]

[ a light kick to owain's ankle for all the doubt he's seeing. he's still on the ground, this takes literally zero effort. ]

It could be a curse.

[swordhandled]

But aren't curses usually more... grand? [ vague gestures at tharja ]

[maskarang]

Do you have another explanation?

[swordhandled]

--I suppose I don't.

[maskarang]

[ still feels like owain's doubting him... well, it is a stretch. he drops back against the floor and stares up at the ceiling thoughtfully. ]

It could be fatigue.

[swordhandled]

[ he sighs and gets down on the ground with him ] You never get tired.

[maskarang]

Even I have my limits. [ it could be stress from the game. or...

tilting his head to look at owain. looking him up and down carefully before shaking his head. nah, it isn't that either. ]

[swordhandled]

--What were you thinking?

[maskarang]

Nothing worth saying.

[swordhandled]

If it deals with your current situation, I'd still like to hear it.

[maskarang]

... It doesn't. [ idly taps his fingers on the ground. owain won't let it go until he says it, so. ] I wondered if I was subconsciously trying to find reasons to touch you.

[swordhandled]

O-oh. [ a quick glance at the bed to make sure minerva is still asleep before he just scoots closer until he's right next to gerome, touching him. ] You know, you don't need to find reasons.

[maskarang]

I know. And I wouldn't trip if I wanted your attention. [the latter point warrants saying. for emphasis, he slides his hand over and reaches for owain's—only to grab his thigh instead ]

[swordhandled]

[ slightly jumps at that sudden thigh grab, but he's not pulling away ] I'm assuming you didn't mean to grab my leg.

[maskarang]

[ ??? pat, pat??? ] Your—

[ ... pat ] —leg. Er.

[ looking down at his hand which is unmistakably on owain's thigh. hm, that's. hm. ] I... did not.

[swordhandled]

It's fine.

[ puts his hand on top of it ]

[maskarang]

[ stares at the hand before linking their fingers together. ] ... Apologies.

[swordhandled]

You don't have to apologize. [ giving his hand a small squeeze ]

[maskarang]

No, but I want to. It must be hard— [ notable pause and grimace. ] —this early in the morning.

[ hm. no. ] Dealing with this. [ nope. ] The... tripping. And—bumping? Falling.

[swordhandled]

Gerome, I love you. No matter the time of day, I'll deal with anything from you.

[maskarang]

No. There's a limit to how much I can ask you to endure. [ a sigh, then he sits up and pulls his hand away. ]

[swordhandled]

[ reaching back up to grab his hand to stop him for the moment ] You're not asking if I'm offering.