[Truly, no one but them could find romantic tension in this scene, laying in the middle of the floor in their own blood and various battle-induced gunk. If either of his housemates walked in right now, they would assume the worst, either in the we-are-about-to-makeout-on-the-floor or we-are-dying context, and which one is preferred is the verdict of a coin toss at this point. But they don't, so Add is free to let his tense fingers curl against Elsword's spine, and Elsword is free to caress Add's face and look at him like the man put the stars in the sky.
It's the most face-emotion he's had in a few days. Elsword manages to look like many things β a slight bit depressed since he almost never smiles, grouchy, mentally vacant, any number of not-so-good things to compliment his unfortunately-forced stoicism. It is rare indeed that he manages to look reassuring and bashful in the same moment. Boyish, really. It's rarer that Add looks flustered, to him; to see his shoulders relax, to be able to look into his eyes and witness tension melting away... it's good. There are only good things happening here (there's blood everywhere, there are slowly-closing gouges all over both of them, what are they even doing).
Add looks away, and Elsword clonks their foreheads together. If his usual self-sacrificing devotion can be conveyed through mere touch, this is that to a tee.]
I'll be here when you decide to do that, but I won't force you to say anything until then.
[Add's breath tickles his lips; are they too close? Elsword has never had a concept of invading personal space before, touch-driven as he tends to be and only respectfully backing off when someone tells him to... but this is a different circumstance, it feels like. The thought barely enters his mind before it leaves. If they fit together so perfectly, let them be puzzle pieces; if they match so well, let them be complementing fabrics on fate's quilt.
It's alright if he closes his eyes and breathes Add in for a spell. The good doctor hasn't pulled away from him yet. Something has to go right today, and in this very moment, "right" is a gaze that lasts too long for them to keep calling themselves friends. "Right" is a promise of skin-on-skin and hands at the base of his spine, intermingled breaths, a childish half-laugh punctuating the air between them as Elsword heavily considers flipping them up onto the nearby sofa to continue the embrace. His lips part to say something undoubtedly stupidβ
βand then the front door flings open and he jolts back, like they're two teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't be doing. He rolls onto his back to look up, expecting Rennuid or Felicity, but
Leon stands, noble, with several familiar-looking drones in his wide jaws. Elsword knows his lion has the ability to open doors, but he hadn't even heard the knob jiggling for what was unmistakably three minutes of lion paws desperately trying to manipulate it, which means he was too far gone to have noticed the telltale clickclack in the first place. This bodes well for the Foreign Emotion the Illuminous Phenomenon is still trying to snuff out.]
Leon?
[His artifact completely ignores him, proudly walks up to Add on the floor, and blehs the drones down at his feet. Hello!! He found these! They are yours. :) ]
no subject
It's the most face-emotion he's had in a few days. Elsword manages to look like many things β a slight bit depressed since he almost never smiles, grouchy, mentally vacant, any number of not-so-good things to compliment his unfortunately-forced stoicism. It is rare indeed that he manages to look reassuring and bashful in the same moment. Boyish, really. It's rarer that Add looks flustered, to him; to see his shoulders relax, to be able to look into his eyes and witness tension melting away... it's good. There are only good things happening here (there's blood everywhere, there are slowly-closing gouges all over both of them, what are they even doing).
Add looks away, and Elsword clonks their foreheads together. If his usual self-sacrificing devotion can be conveyed through mere touch, this is that to a tee.]
I'll be here when you decide to do that, but I won't force you to say anything until then.
[Add's breath tickles his lips; are they too close? Elsword has never had a concept of invading personal space before, touch-driven as he tends to be and only respectfully backing off when someone tells him to... but this is a different circumstance, it feels like. The thought barely enters his mind before it leaves. If they fit together so perfectly, let them be puzzle pieces; if they match so well, let them be complementing fabrics on fate's quilt.
It's alright if he closes his eyes and breathes Add in for a spell. The good doctor hasn't pulled away from him yet. Something has to go right today, and in this very moment, "right" is a gaze that lasts too long for them to keep calling themselves friends. "Right" is a promise of skin-on-skin and hands at the base of his spine, intermingled breaths, a childish half-laugh punctuating the air between them as Elsword heavily considers flipping them up onto the nearby sofa to continue the embrace. His lips part to say something undoubtedly stupidβ
βand then the front door flings open and he jolts back, like they're two teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't be doing. He rolls onto his back to look up, expecting Rennuid or Felicity, but
Leon stands, noble, with several familiar-looking drones in his wide jaws. Elsword knows his lion has the ability to open doors, but he hadn't even heard the knob jiggling for what was unmistakably three minutes of lion paws desperately trying to manipulate it, which means he was too far gone to have noticed the telltale clickclack in the first place. This bodes well for the Foreign Emotion the Illuminous Phenomenon is still trying to snuff out.]
Leon?
[His artifact completely ignores him, proudly walks up to Add on the floor, and blehs the drones down at his feet. Hello!! He found these! They are yours. :) ]