There's really not that much to tell. [Benign and mild and amused if not a little tired now from wrangling the others, tilting his body and his head just so that he can (literally) worm his way onto his side: cheek shoved to Fenris' knee until it's soundly smushed once he's finally close enough, his silver eyes set on Dalyria at an angle. Not dividing his attention— all right, not exactly— he's just making certain both parties have the glory of his presence in the lull between wild chatter and slow (comparitive) silence.
And besides, it's not often that he Fenris are this calm beside each other.
Might as well make it count.]
In a lot of ways it was your typical love story: boy meets bodyguard— boy resents bodyguard and tries to get him fired— bodyguard resents him, warring and bickering and starting fight after fight after fight with one another until suddenly they were in deep.
[A scoff, innocuously threaded through his teeth:]
Hells, Dal, I don't know, what do you want me to say? That I've changed? That just by waltzing into my life my whole world's been shaken?
[A beat.
A beat because it has. The one thing he leaves stitched inside the margins of his slackening expression as a somber sort of segue.]
He looked after me. He cared. [And he can't bring himself to admit something so distinctly destructible as the words like no one ever has even in Dal's cherished company (though with enough time, well— true enough, he might), though as for now he lets his guard drop along with his tone of voice.] Mostly—
no subject
And besides, it's not often that he Fenris are this calm beside each other.
Might as well make it count.]
In a lot of ways it was your typical love story: boy meets bodyguard— boy resents bodyguard and tries to get him fired— bodyguard resents him, warring and bickering and starting fight after fight after fight with one another until suddenly they were in deep.
[A scoff, innocuously threaded through his teeth:]
Hells, Dal, I don't know, what do you want me to say? That I've changed? That just by waltzing into my life my whole world's been shaken?
[A beat.
A beat because it has. The one thing he leaves stitched inside the margins of his slackening expression as a somber sort of segue.]
He looked after me. He cared. [And he can't bring himself to admit something so distinctly destructible as the words like no one ever has even in Dal's cherished company (though with enough time, well— true enough, he might), though as for now he lets his guard drop along with his tone of voice.] Mostly—
[No, try again.]
Most of all when he didn't have to.