[Well see, the thing is. Wolfwood wouldn't call this a problem so much as delving into matters that he feels less able to deal with than the emotional ones.
Matters of the heart.
Maybe for Vash, it's obvious. He genuinely has no way of knowing, because Vash has never said as much, at least not in words. And for all intents and purposes, the only frame of reference Wolfwood has to go on right now is the fact that they kissed, and then Vash never elaborated beyond reacting in the most nuclear way possible. Sure, he can infer what that might have meant, and honestly he does wish he could just talk around it forever, but this is something he feels needs a more solid foundation.
So. Vash joins him up on the bed, and it's really not dissimilar to how things had been before. Only now, it's early morning instead of late evening, neither of them have been drinking, and they've had to dig into some pretty painful shit to try and drag themselves out of this mire they keep sinking back into repeatedly.
The only problem is, Wolfwood knows even less of where to start with this than the previous talk they just had. He tries to open his mouth and immediately feels the words turn to ash on his tongue. Maybe that's why, much like a sheepish child might, his fingers find and take the sleeve edge of Vash's jacket, worrying the material between his fingers.
no subject
Matters of the heart.
Maybe for Vash, it's obvious. He genuinely has no way of knowing, because Vash has never said as much, at least not in words. And for all intents and purposes, the only frame of reference Wolfwood has to go on right now is the fact that they kissed, and then Vash never elaborated beyond reacting in the most nuclear way possible. Sure, he can infer what that might have meant, and honestly he does wish he could just talk around it forever, but this is something he feels needs a more solid foundation.
So. Vash joins him up on the bed, and it's really not dissimilar to how things had been before. Only now, it's early morning instead of late evening, neither of them have been drinking, and they've had to dig into some pretty painful shit to try and drag themselves out of this mire they keep sinking back into repeatedly.
The only problem is, Wolfwood knows even less of where to start with this than the previous talk they just had. He tries to open his mouth and immediately feels the words turn to ash on his tongue. Maybe that's why, much like a sheepish child might, his fingers find and take the sleeve edge of Vash's jacket, worrying the material between his fingers.
He can't meet Vash's gaze.]
...why did you ask to kiss me?