Reaches up to beckon him to lean down so she can hold his face in her hands and give him a little kiss 😊
slayer stares out across the waves, safe from the spray of foam that lashes up against the shore now and then. every time it does he wrinkles his nose. can’t help a small, but poignant, feeling of childish glee arising. hand flexes and curl back into a fist. he’s holding his arms behind himself, fingers curled around a wrist, a very militant posture, one that he can’t seem to train himself out of. the waves continue their lazy to and fro. a lone seagull caws overhead. he lifts his head to seek it out.
being relaxed isn’t something he lets himself get used to. though for now — he allows himself to enjoy it. eb pads her way back to his side; d.g glances downward, a curious contentment settling in his chest at the return of her company. @aevyternal passes him his coffee order. he accepts it; smiles dumbly at it for a while. he moves to touch fingers to his chin, extend them outwards, ‘ thank you, ‘ he signs, though his brows perk at the gesture she returns.
he’s not sure what he’s expecting. some sort of — whispered message maybe. a loose guess. instead, as he lowers to meet her, thumbs smooth along his cheekbones, palms cradle the curves of his jaw and his gaze drops as she presses the lightest of kisses against the corner of his lips. it is a brief gesture. over in a beat or two. slayer rears back from it quickly ( but not sharply ) when it registers fully in his brain, though he is not without a bashful expression, a horribly hidden smile, a sheen of red blooming across his features.
that same seagull squawks again. the sounds of the seaside around them swell up again. before, at her touch, they had muted. slayer shuffles only slightly closer to her now, shifting to drape an arm around her shoulders, briefly ( affectionately ) patting her atop the head. he sets his coffee atop a nearby wall. his other hand, now free, spells out the word ‘ dork, ’ before pointing a finger lazily towards her. any attempts at playing things cool are negated by the flushing of his features. a second passes. he signs again: ‘ very cute, ’ before retrieving his drink, peering at his companion fondly over the top of it before returning his gaze to the sea.
