Somewhere between him uttering the last words of that phrase and him making the conscious decision to change back, he realizes that he honestly looks forward to the idea of spending time with her... as long as she's like this, anyway. It's funny. At home there's barely anyone he'd do this sort of thing with, except for Vincent.
And they spent their "together" time hanging around bars or lazing about in the kitchen, often talking for hours and hours about nothing important or completely ignoring each others' presence for the sake of a little piece and quiet in their busy days. But it's the same idea, isn't it? A momentary relief from an otherwise stressful existence...
Since they'll be leaving, he starts to glitch back into his usual form. It probably feels a little strange if she's still leaning against him, as his form grows a little straighter, but softer, more obviously composed of flesh and less of sharp bone. His claws become fingers again, his eyes merely brown. His hair, however, remains stays ghost-white.
"Ah." He glances at his bangs, pulling up at the top of his hair a little. His motions are somehow less... coordinated, now, less comfortable, as if he somehow has to readjust to different dimensions. "This never quite works, for some reason..."
no subject
Somewhere between him uttering the last words of that phrase and him making the conscious decision to change back, he realizes that he honestly looks forward to the idea of spending time with her... as long as she's like this, anyway. It's funny. At home there's barely anyone he'd do this sort of thing with, except for Vincent.
And they spent their "together" time hanging around bars or lazing about in the kitchen, often talking for hours and hours about nothing important or completely ignoring each others' presence for the sake of a little piece and quiet in their busy days. But it's the same idea, isn't it? A momentary relief from an otherwise stressful existence...
Since they'll be leaving, he starts to glitch back into his usual form. It probably feels a little strange if she's still leaning against him, as his form grows a little straighter, but softer, more obviously composed of flesh and less of sharp bone. His claws become fingers again, his eyes merely brown. His hair, however, remains stays ghost-white.
"Ah." He glances at his bangs, pulling up at the top of his hair a little. His motions are somehow less... coordinated, now, less comfortable, as if he somehow has to readjust to different dimensions. "This never quite works, for some reason..."