[And yet, if you asked Vash, he would call that hand perfect. So perfect, that some part of Vash might have wished to study every inch of it. He isn't even so certain it would just be with his mouth. He briefly entertains the idea of dragging his lips over every knuckle and -
The thought is promptly pushed from his head, though not without a bit of a struggle. He forces himself to exhale a laugh instead, scattering Wolfwood's hair this way and that. It does little to help him, when the strands feel soft against his lips.]
Maybe I do. But you knew that, didn't you? [His laugh is just a little deeper, a little louder this time.] I'd say it's why you like me, even. Why else keep me around?
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The thought is promptly pushed from his head, though not without a bit of a struggle. He forces himself to exhale a laugh instead, scattering Wolfwood's hair this way and that. It does little to help him, when the strands feel soft against his lips.]
Maybe I do. But you knew that, didn't you? [His laugh is just a little deeper, a little louder this time.] I'd say it's why you like me, even. Why else keep me around?