[He just. Keeps. Talking. He's probably saying something wonderfully optimistic and stupid, because that's who he is, but Lalli can't even begin to guess which tactic Emil is taking this time.]
Emil. I don't know what you're telling me. Please just give up...
[This is the kind of struggle that can only hurt, he's sure of it. Why doesn't Emil see?]
( Ugh! Back home his communications with Lalli were either directives or strictly something that could be understood as emotions. This is more nuanced. How does he convey these feelings to Lalli as a form of reassurance? He doesn't even know if that reassurance will work, but he has to try.
He gets an idea, suddenly, that he thinks may make things easier. He wants to make sure Lalli looks at him, grabbing his face potentially, and Emil makes a sloppy hand gesture that he hopes come off as "stay here, I'll be right back." With that, he's off. Hold up, babe, he's coming back. )
[Ugh. Whatever. Back under the bed he scoots, but not as far this time. His elbows and nose peek out, but only grumpily so as he buries his chin in his crossed arms and he waits.]
( Thank goodness this idiot left Lalli's apartment door open -- or maybe that's irresponsible, sorry everyone else. He rushes back to his own apartment and returns to Lalli's room in about five minutes, rather out of breath. The elevator was gone and he didn't want to chance Lalli misunderstanding.
He sits on the floor, fiddling with his tablet for a good few minutes. Despite their language barrier returning, that's coven business -- not Shehui business. They still have translingual media consumption capabilities. God bless retinal technology?? Well, Emil doesn't know how it works, but he does know he's still understood the copious amounts of alien television he's been watching.
When he shows the tablet to Lalli, it's paused on a still from some strange piece of media. There's a dramatic scene going on, as evident by the woman in the freeze frame holding back tears, but he points to the subtitles. Everything will be okay, Sleo.
Ignore the name, that's not the important part. Also, everything isn't okay for Sleo, but they can talk about the plot of this movie at another time. )
[It takes a while for Lalli to give up and focus on the tablet, stubbornly dwelling in his bad mood, and...
Everything will be okay, Sleo.
He’d understood Emil earlier, as much as he could when blindly judging by tone and expression. He’d seen the desperate optimism he clung to. He’d recognized the attempt at comfort — and he’d already dismissed it as worthless.
Slowly, Lalli slinks back out into the room and takes the tablet from Emil so he can shift into a comfortable position with it and trace the air over the words — he won’t risk touching it and losing the current image to some stupid part of the movie or a menu. He breathes in. Breathes out. He can read this. He can get the exact meaning of the words, Sleo or not.]
( Well, that's a good sign. Except, buddy, he kind of needs that tablet to answer your question to the best of his ability. He thankfully understands some key words, if only based on a vague memory and guesswork. Finland, Sweden. Emil knows exactly what he's talking about. )
It's...fixable. ( Except he has no idea how to convey that or pantomime it in an understandable way. Sorry, but he has to take the tablet back and do another few minutes of searching. The best he can come up with without taking all day is another subtitle still that isn't...exactly what he wants. Someone is yelling into a rotary phone, extremely animated and not as gentle as he'd like to convey his message; "Do something about it!" He hands the tablet back very...cautiously. )
I don't mean it like that, but...! You know! We can, we. Us?? ( please tell him you know what he means and he didn't make it worse )
[He relinquishes the tablet when it's reached for, letting the sight of Emil working hard for an answer instead of thoughtless spouting something nonsensical off soothe him.
The message he gets is...]
Hey.
[This is terrible? He's offended, and lifts a flat glare to see how Emil's going to salvage it. At least he seemed to know that the tone of the picture was wrong, and he was stressing a few words that had Lalli reaching back into his memory to break it down from the clunky Swedish into the comfortable, breezy Finnish he understood. He thinks...he gets it...
Sorry movie, or show, or whatever -- Lalli needs a different app. He opens up the alarm system and starts scrolling through, watching the number get bigger, bigger... Until he thinks it's big enough to suit his needs.
"Wake me up in: 1,417 hours and 00 minutes."]
It takes so long. I like...I like knowing what you say. Doesn't it hurt? [Oh, there was a word he knows Emil...sort of learned. Hand formed into a fist, he taps it against his chest, over his heart.] Medic. Feels like I need a medic.
( Emil's breath is quick until he realizes Lalli gets that it's not exactly what he was looking for. He wishes he had better resources, but this is as good as it gets as far as he knows.
Lalli's words are hard to understand, but he does catch on. The illustration makes it more clear; he may have thought Lalli was trying to express his feelings were hurt for a different reason. )
I'm...sorry. I don't like it either. What else can we do though? ( Emil's forlorn look is all he can really offer in terms of understanding, though he pairs it with an emphatic nod. For as optimistic as he can be, he still can't fight reality. )
[He lets the tablet rest in his lap again, then limply sets it on the floor between then so he can curl his arms around his knees instead. That was another apology. Emil didn't have an answer for him, this time.]
I'm so stupid. I thought it would just...work. Things are hard, but you're...simple. There's nothing complicated about you. So I thought...
[Lalli sighs and buries his face into his knees.]
I thought I could have something for once. Just once.
( The fact that his efforts have become fruitless makes Emil's face fall further. There's still a lot about Lalli that he doesn't know, but he does understand that when Lalli sinks, he can sink far. He doesn't know exactly what his boyfriend is saying, but it's...incredibly defeated. That's not good.
Emil unbunches his legs and crawls over to Lalli's hunched up form. Sorry you don't like being touched, and he might have to shove his hand in here, but Emil places his hand on top of Lalli's heart; the place where he'd had his own hand a minute ago. Maybe he should be a little more emphatic with his thoughts? Subtlety doesn't work well with a language barrier. )
It does hurt me. I hurt. ( He tries to repeat the sentence in his best Finnish, even if it's still a tad bit sloppy. ) But...I know we can do things in the meantime. I liked you before I knew what you were saying, and that won't change now...and we found ways to understand each other then too.
( Lalli probably has no fucking clue what he's saying, but it never stopped Emil before...why would it stop him now. ) It will be okay -- with me, with everyone else.
[Lalli jumps at the hand pressing against him, head jerking up, but only only so he can stare out into the space ahead of him. It was...weird to know beyond a doubt at that someone could feel that painful hammering. Before Emil can decide that with the end of his speech comes the end of the contact, Lalli reaches up to grip around the other boy's wrist. Tight. Unforgiving. Needy.
...
He still doesn't look at him as he loosens his fingers and shifts to adjust their bodies. He pushes him back some to create space, and opens his arm to the side so he can crawl into that space and curl Emil around himself. He gives Emil's wrist another squeeze, too tight, then pulls his arms around him, praying he gets the picture.]
Make me understand you're here. It's hard to feel it.
[And as much as he hopes Emil is obedient to his words, he finds himself equally grateful that he can't actually understand them. How pathetic he must sound... He can't imagine ever having the strength to say something like that, and so it could only come out when he was already broken and vulnerable. He would have been such a disappointment.]
( Touching Lalli forcefully is a bit of a risk, and at the very least Emil thought maybe he would have just shuddered and had no change. Wanting to be touched more is ultimately a surprise. But it's a good one.
His first reaction is simply to be alarmed because of the out of character need to be touched -- the initial grab he thought may be more of a threatening anger. Instead he finds that Lalli creates his own pocket to be held in. Truth be told, he could feel it -- not as much as Lalli thought he'd be able to, but his hammering heart was hard to miss through his thin chest. His own is pounding now, though maybe for a different reason.
The squeeze he gives him is initially tight, though not as tight as Lalli's thin-fingered grip. Emil doesn't need words to understand that gesture, even if what he was verbally offered was more specific. If Lalli needs that reassurance, then he's more than happy to give it. )
[While he ultimately calms at the hold, Lalli is far from completely relaxed. For a while, he still squirrels around, until he finally ends up with his legs wrapped securely around his waist, fingers coming up to dig in Emil's shoulder blades, and his face tucked against his neck. The pressure was a way to suppress his anxiety, but it probably didn't feel particularly kind to be on the receiving end of, if that wasn't something helpful to your mindset to begin with. He can't retreat underneath his bed, though, so Emil will have to deal.
Maybe he'll be more forgiving of this if, after a while, he stops digging his nails in and noses at his cheek. Physical gestures were easier than words. A universal language.]
( At first, Emil just holds him as best he can, as comfortable as possible given the person in his arm is taunt and jagged -- more so than usual; without that tension his angular frame has a distinct charm. Then slowly but surely Lalli wriggles around, changes position, claws into him, throws his leg over him. After he finally settles down, Emil is...afraid to even move. That escalated quickly, and it certainly doesn't feel as good as it might otherwise.
What the heck is he supposed to even do about this...? Eventually, Lalli seems to loosen slightly -- he can't feel sharp nails digging into his skin quite as badly -- and he tries to lose some of his own tension he'd developed from this awkward, painful position. One arm around Lalli still, one off to the side, tweaked slightly. Emil finds it in him to move it in order to stroke the back of Lalli's head softly, trying his best to communicate reassurance. )
[At the very least, he can be grateful that Lalli refrained from beating his fists against him -- probably thanks to the talking down from his fury earlier, being left instead to this...groveling. That's really what it feels like, even though his nails were biting and his hold merciless. Maybe he was trying to cling to any semblance of strength he could muster, on top of the assurance that Emil is there with him and willing to stay. Unbelievable...]
You're so stupid... [It's a whisper, but his voice still cracks partway through. He likes this. The feel of Emil's hand against his hair, making sense of the world through that gentle touch instead of swift, hard bangs of it against the floor to force his thoughts into order. Punish him for the ones he shouldn't have.] I like you... Do you remember those words? I like you, Emil. Stupid as you are.
( That's a word Lalli probably doesn't need to teach Emil: stupid. Despite his ignorance, he knows through context clues exactly what Lalli says when he repeats tyhmä, or some form of it. That's a Lalli thing to say. "You're stupid. I like you, even though you're stupid."
And yes -- he does remember those words, for as horrible as he was at saying them. He'll opt to stick to Swedish, since Lalli is so much better at understanding his words instead of vice versa, somehow. )
I like you. I like you a lot. ( It's not as if Emil is blissfully ignorant of a lot of things surrounding this situation. It's just that the weight of how real things can feel doesn't really sit heavy in his chest until then. It creeps in. This could be an issue for a long time. They could be together for a long time. It's easy to think about in small chunks when you think about things day by day, or you only think of the future through a lens that grows cloudy once next month comes into question. That concept of time was something he'd acknowledge if you asked him, but processing it is new. That's a potential reality he may exist in because of liking this person, liking Lalli.
He holds him tightly not because Lalli needs to be reassured, but because he suddenly wants to, desperately. Nails or not, this is just fine. )
[It's nice to feel wanted. To not just have instructions followed because that's how it's easiest. Had he not fallen from his reliance on language to get them through, he might not have noticed the subtle shift in Emil's arms. Being hopeful, and savoring those words, he prays that's what this hold is. Even if it isn't, right now he thinks he could remain here for hours.
...
......
.........Or.]
Nngh...
[Lalli squirms, apparently suddenly needing to be free.]
( Honestly, it could have been hours as far as Emil's concerned. He grew spacey the more he pressed his face to Lalli's hair. His stuppor is broken once Lalli's position shifts and he suddenly feels like he's grabbing onto a small animal that's tired of a child's too tight of a grip: there's surety in the fact that the wriggling will get worse if he doesn't release him.
Emil lets go hesitantly, not sure where the repeated "I like you" fits into this. All that's truly evident is that Lalli is suddenly not that into this, and that's fine, but... )
You're also clinging to me? ( Not irritated or anything, just...stating facts. Maybe unhook yourself from his waist now. )
[He doesn't have time for this...! Lalli whines and does in fact retract his limbs instead trying to fight against Emil's, though his sudden haste means knocking his angular knee into his boyfriend's ribs on accident. No time to apologize, though. Lalli nearly trips immediately after getting to his feet, but he manages to make his way to his destination without further incident. Gods, could his bladder have chosen a worse fucking time...
A couple minutes later, Lalli returns and lays down on the floor.]
I don't know if it's better or worse I can't say, "oh hey, just gotta pee, boy soda sure is great, huh."
[He's back to being a bitter bitch. At least now it's stupid on top of depressing.]
( Here Emil is, thinking he's having some sudden touchphobic crisis, and now he's gotta feel bad about being all lovey dovey. AND HE WILL NEVER KNOW THE TRUTH. HE AND HIS CRACKED RIB WILL NEVER KNOW.
There isn't even time to investigate where Lalli hurried off to as he's holding his now war-torn rib in agony. God damn, those things are like knives if you catch the pointy part of the patella just right. By the time Emil thinks to get up on at least a knee, Lalli's back and on the floor, as mysterious as ever. )
I'm alright, just in case you were wondering. ( He can be bitter too, asshole. At least this means he doesn't have to stand up, and can instead slump back to the floor and sprawl out too, observing the ceiling as if something interesting will show up if he glares long enough. )
[And soooo much more relieved, you can't forget that. Even if he can't understand the words, he recognizes the tone and just gives an annoyed grunt in response. Whatever!! You don't understand his plight, you'll live, blah blah.
...No. As comfortable as he is in silence and staying on the floor, he isn't so deep in his own problems that he can't sense the downturn in Emil's mood and feel guilty about it. Movements slow, Lalli sits up enough that he can prop himself above the other's head and, with all the gentleness his previous touches had lacked, he brushes aside his bangs into the neatness he knew Emil liked. Nervous, he licks his bottom lip. It's with something like shame that he notices how horribly chapped it is...but he hopes Emil won't mind too much as he leans in and places a brief kiss against his forehead.]
( One day Emil will ask him wtf was up, don't worry. The annoyed noise is par for the course, and he just closes his eyes in response. He's suddenly not opposed to a nap, but tiredness isn't coming to him.
He opens his eyes at the soft touch, feeling both the slight movement of the fingers and the hairs grazing his forehead. Lalli is there, offering some kind of apology. It's accepted, of course. Hair is one of his soft spots of course.
The next action is a true surprise, though. Lalli may have just been leaning in to give him a patented stare, but he goes further to press his lips right there, where he can't look up to see. Yeah, he can feel the slight presence of the hardened skin, but everything else is so, so soft. The expression he's making, fond but shocked. It's one of those things that comes with the territory, bit the actual action has stupified him. )
[Unsure, he meets Emil's eyes and feels his heart thud painfully in his chest.]
...You look like an idiot.
[He looks beautiful. Lalli withdraws again, hoping that Emil hadn't had the chance to see his face heat up. It was embarrassing enough to allow him that moment of weakness and affection.]
( Emil may know 'stupid,' but he doesn't know 'idiot.' What Lalli says afterwards is a mystery to him, even though he giddily wishes he knew. It's impossible to keep laying down after that, instead sitting up to look at Lalli with a bit of awe. )
You kissed me. ( As if this is a fact Lalli needs to be informed of. Emil himself feels red, bashful at how intimate that simple action just was. )
[aaaaaa that tone is hard to mistake. Lalli huffs and jerks his face further away, shoulders hunching up as he does so. This is!! terrible!!!]
It isn't a big deal. [Whatever he was making a big deal out of, it wasn't warranted. Just a forehead kiss and some blushing! Nothing to see here!] Stop that.
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Emil. I don't know what you're telling me. Please just give up...
[This is the kind of struggle that can only hurt, he's sure of it. Why doesn't Emil see?]
Very very bad. Okay? Bad. Do you understand?
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He gets an idea, suddenly, that he thinks may make things easier. He wants to make sure Lalli looks at him, grabbing his face potentially, and Emil makes a sloppy hand gesture that he hopes come off as "stay here, I'll be right back." With that, he's off. Hold up, babe, he's coming back. )
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Mrrrh...
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He sits on the floor, fiddling with his tablet for a good few minutes. Despite their language barrier returning, that's coven business -- not Shehui business. They still have translingual media consumption capabilities. God bless retinal technology?? Well, Emil doesn't know how it works, but he does know he's still understood the copious amounts of alien television he's been watching.
When he shows the tablet to Lalli, it's paused on a still from some strange piece of media. There's a dramatic scene going on, as evident by the woman in the freeze frame holding back tears, but he points to the subtitles. Everything will be okay, Sleo.
Ignore the name, that's not the important part. Also, everything isn't okay for Sleo, but they can talk about the plot of this movie at another time. )
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Everything will be okay, Sleo.
He’d understood Emil earlier, as much as he could when blindly judging by tone and expression. He’d seen the desperate optimism he clung to. He’d recognized the attempt at comfort — and he’d already dismissed it as worthless.
Slowly, Lalli slinks back out into the room and takes the tablet from Emil so he can shift into a comfortable position with it and trace the air over the words — he won’t risk touching it and losing the current image to some stupid part of the movie or a menu. He breathes in. Breathes out. He can read this. He can get the exact meaning of the words, Sleo or not.]
What about home...? Ehnn — Finland. Sweden.
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It's...fixable. ( Except he has no idea how to convey that or pantomime it in an understandable way. Sorry, but he has to take the tablet back and do another few minutes of searching. The best he can come up with without taking all day is another subtitle still that isn't...exactly what he wants. Someone is yelling into a rotary phone, extremely animated and not as gentle as he'd like to convey his message; "Do something about it!" He hands the tablet back very...cautiously. )
I don't mean it like that, but...! You know! We can, we. Us?? ( please tell him you know what he means and he didn't make it worse )
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The message he gets is...]
Hey.
[This is terrible? He's offended, and lifts a flat glare to see how Emil's going to salvage it. At least he seemed to know that the tone of the picture was wrong, and he was stressing a few words that had Lalli reaching back into his memory to break it down from the clunky Swedish into the comfortable, breezy Finnish he understood. He thinks...he gets it...
Sorry movie, or show, or whatever -- Lalli needs a different app. He opens up the alarm system and starts scrolling through, watching the number get bigger, bigger... Until he thinks it's big enough to suit his needs.
"Wake me up in: 1,417 hours and 00 minutes."]
It takes so long. I like...I like knowing what you say. Doesn't it hurt? [Oh, there was a word he knows Emil...sort of learned. Hand formed into a fist, he taps it against his chest, over his heart.] Medic. Feels like I need a medic.
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Lalli's words are hard to understand, but he does catch on. The illustration makes it more clear; he may have thought Lalli was trying to express his feelings were hurt for a different reason. )
I'm...sorry. I don't like it either. What else can we do though? ( Emil's forlorn look is all he can really offer in terms of understanding, though he pairs it with an emphatic nod. For as optimistic as he can be, he still can't fight reality. )
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I'm so stupid. I thought it would just...work. Things are hard, but you're...simple. There's nothing complicated about you. So I thought...
[Lalli sighs and buries his face into his knees.]
I thought I could have something for once. Just once.
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Emil unbunches his legs and crawls over to Lalli's hunched up form. Sorry you don't like being touched, and he might have to shove his hand in here, but Emil places his hand on top of Lalli's heart; the place where he'd had his own hand a minute ago. Maybe he should be a little more emphatic with his thoughts? Subtlety doesn't work well with a language barrier. )
It does hurt me. I hurt. ( He tries to repeat the sentence in his best Finnish, even if it's still a tad bit sloppy. ) But...I know we can do things in the meantime. I liked you before I knew what you were saying, and that won't change now...and we found ways to understand each other then too.
( Lalli probably has no fucking clue what he's saying, but it never stopped Emil before...why would it stop him now. ) It will be okay -- with me, with everyone else.
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...
He still doesn't look at him as he loosens his fingers and shifts to adjust their bodies. He pushes him back some to create space, and opens his arm to the side so he can crawl into that space and curl Emil around himself. He gives Emil's wrist another squeeze, too tight, then pulls his arms around him, praying he gets the picture.]
Make me understand you're here. It's hard to feel it.
[And as much as he hopes Emil is obedient to his words, he finds himself equally grateful that he can't actually understand them. How pathetic he must sound... He can't imagine ever having the strength to say something like that, and so it could only come out when he was already broken and vulnerable. He would have been such a disappointment.]
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His first reaction is simply to be alarmed because of the out of character need to be touched -- the initial grab he thought may be more of a threatening anger. Instead he finds that Lalli creates his own pocket to be held in. Truth be told, he could feel it -- not as much as Lalli thought he'd be able to, but his hammering heart was hard to miss through his thin chest. His own is pounding now, though maybe for a different reason.
The squeeze he gives him is initially tight, though not as tight as Lalli's thin-fingered grip. Emil doesn't need words to understand that gesture, even if what he was verbally offered was more specific. If Lalli needs that reassurance, then he's more than happy to give it. )
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Maybe he'll be more forgiving of this if, after a while, he stops digging his nails in and noses at his cheek. Physical gestures were easier than words. A universal language.]
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What the heck is he supposed to even do about this...? Eventually, Lalli seems to loosen slightly -- he can't feel sharp nails digging into his skin quite as badly -- and he tries to lose some of his own tension he'd developed from this awkward, painful position. One arm around Lalli still, one off to the side, tweaked slightly. Emil finds it in him to move it in order to stroke the back of Lalli's head softly, trying his best to communicate reassurance. )
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You're so stupid... [It's a whisper, but his voice still cracks partway through. He likes this. The feel of Emil's hand against his hair, making sense of the world through that gentle touch instead of swift, hard bangs of it against the floor to force his thoughts into order. Punish him for the ones he shouldn't have.] I like you... Do you remember those words? I like you, Emil. Stupid as you are.
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And yes -- he does remember those words, for as horrible as he was at saying them. He'll opt to stick to Swedish, since Lalli is so much better at understanding his words instead of vice versa, somehow. )
I like you. I like you a lot. ( It's not as if Emil is blissfully ignorant of a lot of things surrounding this situation. It's just that the weight of how real things can feel doesn't really sit heavy in his chest until then. It creeps in. This could be an issue for a long time. They could be together for a long time. It's easy to think about in small chunks when you think about things day by day, or you only think of the future through a lens that grows cloudy once next month comes into question. That concept of time was something he'd acknowledge if you asked him, but processing it is new. That's a potential reality he may exist in because of liking this person, liking Lalli.
He holds him tightly not because Lalli needs to be reassured, but because he suddenly wants to, desperately. Nails or not, this is just fine. )
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...
......
.........Or.]
Nngh...
[Lalli squirms, apparently suddenly needing to be free.]
Aahn, I like you, but let go now, come on...
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Emil lets go hesitantly, not sure where the repeated "I like you" fits into this. All that's truly evident is that Lalli is suddenly not that into this, and that's fine, but... )
You're also clinging to me? ( Not irritated or anything, just...stating facts. Maybe unhook yourself from his waist now. )
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A couple minutes later, Lalli returns and lays down on the floor.]
I don't know if it's better or worse I can't say, "oh hey, just gotta pee, boy soda sure is great, huh."
[He's back to being a bitter bitch. At least now it's stupid on top of depressing.]
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There isn't even time to investigate where Lalli hurried off to as he's holding his now war-torn rib in agony. God damn, those things are like knives if you catch the pointy part of the patella just right. By the time Emil thinks to get up on at least a knee, Lalli's back and on the floor, as mysterious as ever. )
I'm alright, just in case you were wondering. ( He can be bitter too, asshole. At least this means he doesn't have to stand up, and can instead slump back to the floor and sprawl out too, observing the ceiling as if something interesting will show up if he glares long enough. )
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...No. As comfortable as he is in silence and staying on the floor, he isn't so deep in his own problems that he can't sense the downturn in Emil's mood and feel guilty about it. Movements slow, Lalli sits up enough that he can prop himself above the other's head and, with all the gentleness his previous touches had lacked, he brushes aside his bangs into the neatness he knew Emil liked. Nervous, he licks his bottom lip. It's with something like shame that he notices how horribly chapped it is...but he hopes Emil won't mind too much as he leans in and places a brief kiss against his forehead.]
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He opens his eyes at the soft touch, feeling both the slight movement of the fingers and the hairs grazing his forehead. Lalli is there, offering some kind of apology. It's accepted, of course. Hair is one of his soft spots of course.
The next action is a true surprise, though. Lalli may have just been leaning in to give him a patented stare, but he goes further to press his lips right there, where he can't look up to see. Yeah, he can feel the slight presence of the hardened skin, but everything else is so, so soft. The expression he's making, fond but shocked. It's one of those things that comes with the territory, bit the actual action has stupified him. )
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...You look like an idiot.
[He looks beautiful. Lalli withdraws again, hoping that Emil hadn't had the chance to see his face heat up. It was embarrassing enough to allow him that moment of weakness and affection.]
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You kissed me. ( As if this is a fact Lalli needs to be informed of. Emil himself feels red, bashful at how intimate that simple action just was. )
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It isn't a big deal. [Whatever he was making a big deal out of, it wasn't warranted. Just a forehead kiss and some blushing! Nothing to see here!] Stop that.
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