[ The kind of pain he likes. He... understands that. It's a concept that lines up with his own experience, he supposes. There are kinds of pain that help him focus. That cleanse him of worries and narrow his thoughts down to the here and now. He supposes finding them useful is close enough to liking them.
Nodding with a furrowing of his brow, he permits himself to be pulled along, hand awkwardly held out as though concerned about getting them messier than they already are. He's distracted, deep in his own head as he goes through the motions of wiping clean. The shower drowns out the telltale sounds of his thinking, the tick-tick-tick of persistent clockwork.
He feels... not unpleasant, but strange, with too many questions brewing and a head still spinning from orgasm to properly process them. He's growing keenly aware that there's a stark difference between how he feels and how the other man acts, a familiarity, he thinks. If he were to begin unpacking his curiosity, would that expose the differences between them, as people? Would he question if he's a person at all? ]
I'm sorry— [ he draws back, starting to put his clothing back in some semblance of order, ] I can't linger. [ Let him risk being rude than risk exposure as someone who wasn't born human. ] I should go.
[The shower is only a temporary relief to the hedonistic thoughts that slowly want to crawl back into his thoughts. The diamond on his wrist is still a deep red and his body is reminding him that it has not been sated. Wriothesley doesn't know why. Doesn't know that his avoidance of the mingle as an experiment is truly why it hasn't been abated.
One wouldn't realize it's the growing hunger that has him still slightly flushed and not because of the activities from before.
He's a little surprised at the man's suddenness to leave, but he also doesn't fault them either. He did kind of just jump the guy's bones. Them wanting space seemed logical. He'd also want more to make sure they're on the same page if he wasn't so damn cumbrained. He tucks it away to remind himself to reach out another time to check on Pinocchio. For now, he knows a man who wants space and he shouldn't force his company on them longer.]
Oh. Please, go ahead. You don't have to apologize. Don't let me slow you down.
no subject
Nodding with a furrowing of his brow, he permits himself to be pulled along, hand awkwardly held out as though concerned about getting them messier than they already are. He's distracted, deep in his own head as he goes through the motions of wiping clean. The shower drowns out the telltale sounds of his thinking, the tick-tick-tick of persistent clockwork.
He feels... not unpleasant, but strange, with too many questions brewing and a head still spinning from orgasm to properly process them. He's growing keenly aware that there's a stark difference between how he feels and how the other man acts, a familiarity, he thinks. If he were to begin unpacking his curiosity, would that expose the differences between them, as people? Would he question if he's a person at all? ]
I'm sorry— [ he draws back, starting to put his clothing back in some semblance of order, ] I can't linger. [ Let him risk being rude than risk exposure as someone who wasn't born human. ] I should go.
no subject
One wouldn't realize it's the growing hunger that has him still slightly flushed and not because of the activities from before.
He's a little surprised at the man's suddenness to leave, but he also doesn't fault them either. He did kind of just jump the guy's bones. Them wanting space seemed logical. He'd also want more to make sure they're on the same page if he wasn't so damn cumbrained. He tucks it away to remind himself to reach out another time to check on Pinocchio. For now, he knows a man who wants space and he shouldn't force his company on them longer.]
Oh. Please, go ahead. You don't have to apologize. Don't let me slow you down.