[He sees movement just out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn't give it his full attention. Just a quick glance, a quirk of the brow, and just like that his eyes are back on Reno. For the time being they belong to him and him alone. His smile becomes a little more wistful, expression that much softer, and something in him twists. Try as he might, Roche can't keep himself from thinking back to Junon.
The quiet hiss from "dates" when he'd overstep an invisible line or a pointed look... Sometimes it was in jest, but they all had an ounce of honesty to them, too.
Without sparing it a second thought, Roche shifts. Stands partway up, and reaches across the table to brush his fingertips along the sharp angle of Reno's cheek. It's nowhere near the same as calling him a whore surrounded by people who no doubt have more money in their accounts than Roche will ever see in his life, but for people like them? Boy, it'd even draw attention in some seedy bar. Perhaps only long enough for a few sparing glances, but it's still noticeable. Here? Roche may as well be firing a flare into the ceiling to those around their table. Look at me. Look. Look. Look--]
Calling you a whore is out of the question, Hotshot. If you want to give them something to talk about in their inner circles for a good month and try to get you flustered, just say the word and we'll grab Alfons when he comes back this way. I don't want to leave him high and dry, do you?
[Ohhhhhh boy. That can't be a good thing, can it? Roche, no. Bad dog. Sit. Stay. Heel.]
no subject
[He sees movement just out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn't give it his full attention. Just a quick glance, a quirk of the brow, and just like that his eyes are back on Reno. For the time being they belong to him and him alone. His smile becomes a little more wistful, expression that much softer, and something in him twists. Try as he might, Roche can't keep himself from thinking back to Junon.
The quiet hiss from "dates" when he'd overstep an invisible line or a pointed look... Sometimes it was in jest, but they all had an ounce of honesty to them, too.
Without sparing it a second thought, Roche shifts. Stands partway up, and reaches across the table to brush his fingertips along the sharp angle of Reno's cheek. It's nowhere near the same as calling him a whore surrounded by people who no doubt have more money in their accounts than Roche will ever see in his life, but for people like them? Boy, it'd even draw attention in some seedy bar. Perhaps only long enough for a few sparing glances, but it's still noticeable. Here? Roche may as well be firing a flare into the ceiling to those around their table. Look at me. Look. Look. Look--]
Calling you a whore is out of the question, Hotshot. If you want to give them something to talk about in their inner circles for a good month and try to get you flustered, just say the word and we'll grab Alfons when he comes back this way. I don't want to leave him high and dry, do you?
[Ohhhhhh boy. That can't be a good thing, can it? Roche, no. Bad dog. Sit. Stay. Heel.]