[ Wriothesley's playfulness is one of many charm points.
He's also observant, recognizes patterns, and makes logical conclusions. It doesn't surprise Pinocchio that he asks, considering some of their previous encounters, but a small amount of chagrin accompanies the soft puff of laughter that answers him. He pushes a knee onto the mattress beside him, nudging Wriothesley before he sits at his side, ] I still might.
[ Pinocchio pushes the glass of water into his hands, but once he takes it, he combs his fingers through his sweat-damp hair, affectionately, and then cuffs him gently on the cheek, a laugh in his voice, ] You look good enough to eat, especially like this. ...Drink.
[ His eyes rake his body, fingers gripping the damp cloth, debating whether he can get away with licking the spend off his belly, or if that's just flirting with disaster. With his knee hiked up against the mattress, his ankle rests on the other knee. Though the position doesn't make it extremely obvious, the lurid red of a heart is stamped on his heel. ]
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He's also observant, recognizes patterns, and makes logical conclusions. It doesn't surprise Pinocchio that he asks, considering some of their previous encounters, but a small amount of chagrin accompanies the soft puff of laughter that answers him. He pushes a knee onto the mattress beside him, nudging Wriothesley before he sits at his side, ] I still might.
[ Pinocchio pushes the glass of water into his hands, but once he takes it, he combs his fingers through his sweat-damp hair, affectionately, and then cuffs him gently on the cheek, a laugh in his voice, ] You look good enough to eat, especially like this. ...Drink.
[ His eyes rake his body, fingers gripping the damp cloth, debating whether he can get away with licking the spend off his belly, or if that's just flirting with disaster. With his knee hiked up against the mattress, his ankle rests on the other knee. Though the position doesn't make it extremely obvious, the lurid red of a heart is stamped on his heel. ]