”- Ah.” A barely audible utterance, quite aware that nothing can truly be said given that situation. For once he’s not surprised that something had been successfully hidden from him, rather he’s grateful. To think of the kind of torment he could have caused Vincent with such information… horrifying to even speculate about. A soft sigh puffs warm air against Vincent’s cheek as he turns his head, lips pressing just beneath the shell of his ear before words are softly whispered. ”Keep this in mind, then, for future. I’m yours, Vincent. Unless expressed otherwise at the time, your touch is always welcome.”
Pale lips open at the moist gust against his jaw, and he lets loose a sigh of his own. “Release me, then.” Pushing back slightly into his match, he turns his head in order to nervously place plush tiers against Chaos’s. They remain chapped; it is a trait that his mother had, he recalls–she always applied lip gloss frequently. Perhaps he should look into chapstick before this WEAPON of his found another thing to tease him over. Parting from the paramour only slightly, he raises a hand to brush through the hair he finds himself so fond of: ever-changing with the light, and a deep burgundy color he is admittedly partial to. Quietly, he amends, “Release me so I can touch you.”
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