Yes, ma'am! [ he tries to salute, even with his back turned.
but half-way between realizing how pointless that is, his hand instead falls to the back of his neck. he rubs it awkwardly, as if trying to physically mend the nerves and embarrassment. as fate would have it, it doesn't help in the least. even listening to the sounds of her changing is enough to have his ears turn a little red too. he tries to remind himself not to pay attention, but it's like the more he struggles to get it out of his mind, the more it remains in.
is this where people counted sheep? something tells him that's entirely wrong, but he can't seem to piece that together, before he finally hears her voice. ] Y-You're done already...? [ he whips around (hoping it'll be like tearing off a bandaid— the faster, the more painless) and sees clair in ... only a blanket.
at first he isn't sure where to look, and so he opts on her feet. of course, clair is an attractive woman and regardless of what she wears she's ... ] Perfect. I... mean you look grea— er, warm? [ why is he trying to reassure her of this!? still, he shakes his head and coughs a little clear his throat. before, looking back to her face.
no, he can't. instead, he ends up focusing his gaze back on himself and his still sopping wet clothes and armor. ah, right. he should get undressed himself and work on the fire, right? singularly focused on this, he totally forgets about the fact that they're facing each now (and temporarily, the shame) as he begins stripping off his top armor. ]
no subject
but half-way between realizing how pointless that is, his hand instead falls to the back of his neck. he rubs it awkwardly, as if trying to physically mend the nerves and embarrassment. as fate would have it, it doesn't help in the least. even listening to the sounds of her changing is enough to have his ears turn a little red too. he tries to remind himself not to pay attention, but it's like the more he struggles to get it out of his mind, the more it remains in.
is this where people counted sheep? something tells him that's entirely wrong, but he can't seem to piece that together, before he finally hears her voice. ] Y-You're done already...? [ he whips around (hoping it'll be like tearing off a bandaid— the faster, the more painless) and sees clair in ... only a blanket.
at first he isn't sure where to look, and so he opts on her feet. of course, clair is an attractive woman and regardless of what she wears she's ... ] Perfect. I... mean you look grea— er, warm? [ why is he trying to reassure her of this!? still, he shakes his head and coughs a little clear his throat. before, looking back to her face.
no, he can't. instead, he ends up focusing his gaze back on himself and his still sopping wet clothes and armor. ah, right. he should get undressed himself and work on the fire, right? singularly focused on this, he totally forgets about the fact that they're facing each now (and temporarily, the shame) as he begins stripping off his top armor. ]