[ the problem with impulsive decisions is, sylvain can't tell if he's entertaining something new or indulging old habits in the guise of novelty. where physical intimacy is involved, something a step beyond chaste kisses and friendly flirting, his brain wires itself differently—like an emotional fight or flight response, except both lead to self-sabotage. (but he's dead, and there shouldn't be anything he's still running away from, or to ruin... right?)
he doesn't know what he's expecting from claude, but he kisses him like he might find the answer, open and searching. the heat of his mouth is all-too tempting, like something he can drink, but then he feels the noticeable shift in claude's body language. where he expects his partner to relax a little, he only tenses up instead, flinches away from his grasp. sylvain almost goes with him, slower to return to their abrupt reality, hands hovering uselessly in the space where claude used to be. ]
—Oh. Hey. ...Are you alright?
[ did he do something wrong...? push claude past some undisclosed limit? he suddenly feels a little sheepish for his impetuous actions, and rubs the back of his neck, looking apologetic. ]
no subject
he doesn't know what he's expecting from claude, but he kisses him like he might find the answer, open and searching. the heat of his mouth is all-too tempting, like something he can drink, but then he feels the noticeable shift in claude's body language. where he expects his partner to relax a little, he only tenses up instead, flinches away from his grasp. sylvain almost goes with him, slower to return to their abrupt reality, hands hovering uselessly in the space where claude used to be. ]
—Oh. Hey. ...Are you alright?
[ did he do something wrong...? push claude past some undisclosed limit? he suddenly feels a little sheepish for his impetuous actions, and rubs the back of his neck, looking apologetic. ]
Sorry if I got a little carried away...