They can be, I'm not against such a thing but not when it's from someone I know absolutely nothing about. [And then promptly never hears from again, but that isn't something he's about to say aloud. Everything had its place and its purpose, who was he to judge if that was what someone wanted?
He certainly isn't wrong about the self-esteem differences between them and he's quiet as he watches him move and remove that sling. Truly, he's fairly curious still about how he ended up in such a situation, but he won't pry. Merely be a tad bit impressed that he's even remotely removing it for these purposes. He's... seen people in such a situation and they seemed to not want to move their injured arm in the slightest.]
Ah, right. If I need to move again or if something becomes uncomfortable, just let me know. That's the exact opposite of what we want here, after all. [He's not wrong and he's quite quick to help move, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips once again before it's gone as quick as it came. Seems to be a habit with him.
It's certainly not fair that he can move like that, either, tight muscle that is honestly more impressive than it has any right to be but his attention is shifted away from that as that finger finds his jaw and he can feel his breath catch in his throat, almost afraid to breathe for a moment or two while he traces, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Slowly he can finally release that breath, feeling the red burning at his cheeks. It's stupid, he knows it, but he can't quite help it.]
There's something to be said for a gentle touch in many a thing, you... aren't incorrect about it. Obviously. [There's a small hint of amusement to his tone on the last part, knowing full well his own reaction to this amount of nonsense. Nor has he not noticed what he's looking at his his hand goes flat, a brow raised slowly.]
Contrast is a powerful force in many different kinds of art, whether it be deep and rich baritones mixed with light and airy treble or the night sky to the bright morning. No matter how many times you see it, it still causes a moment of awe in how natural they work together.
[Perhaps that's ridiculous, but he doesn't mind in the slightest. Hands moving to find places to rest, one returning to his thigh while the other goes back to mapping muscle once again.]
Admittedly, I'm quite fond of contrasts instead of the complimentary.
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He certainly isn't wrong about the self-esteem differences between them and he's quiet as he watches him move and remove that sling. Truly, he's fairly curious still about how he ended up in such a situation, but he won't pry. Merely be a tad bit impressed that he's even remotely removing it for these purposes. He's... seen people in such a situation and they seemed to not want to move their injured arm in the slightest.]
Ah, right. If I need to move again or if something becomes uncomfortable, just let me know. That's the exact opposite of what we want here, after all. [He's not wrong and he's quite quick to help move, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips once again before it's gone as quick as it came. Seems to be a habit with him.
It's certainly not fair that he can move like that, either, tight muscle that is honestly more impressive than it has any right to be but his attention is shifted away from that as that finger finds his jaw and he can feel his breath catch in his throat, almost afraid to breathe for a moment or two while he traces, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Slowly he can finally release that breath, feeling the red burning at his cheeks. It's stupid, he knows it, but he can't quite help it.]
There's something to be said for a gentle touch in many a thing, you... aren't incorrect about it. Obviously. [There's a small hint of amusement to his tone on the last part, knowing full well his own reaction to this amount of nonsense. Nor has he not noticed what he's looking at his his hand goes flat, a brow raised slowly.]
Contrast is a powerful force in many different kinds of art, whether it be deep and rich baritones mixed with light and airy treble or the night sky to the bright morning. No matter how many times you see it, it still causes a moment of awe in how natural they work together.
[Perhaps that's ridiculous, but he doesn't mind in the slightest. Hands moving to find places to rest, one returning to his thigh while the other goes back to mapping muscle once again.]
Admittedly, I'm quite fond of contrasts instead of the complimentary.