[ It's enough to make him feel like his heart's stopped for a moment.
Not just Dextera's words -- those alone enough to make his lungs squeeze tight, his breath catching in his throat -- but the way he says them. The promptness. The certainty. 'I won't lose you,' Dextera says, and it feels a bit like someone's struck him across the head with a hammer, given how violently his thoughts go blank.
Though Gen says nothing for a moment, only looking at Dextera in silence, it must be painfully obvious that he's struggling to fight back an overwhelming deluge of tangled emotions. Shock, confusion, disbelief. But more than any of those --
a violently spiraling sense of infatuation. (Longing and possessive.) ]
That's ... [ It slips out loud first, before he tries to gather himself. Gen swallows thickly as he thoughtlessly brings his free hand up to his face; his reflexively attempt to hide his expression that way is rather undermined by the visible way his canine ears flatten back for a moment, clearly overwhelmed. ] S'that right. [ He closes his eyes as he exhales slowly, trying to will his thundering pulse calm. ] You know that's easier said than done.
[ But there's no real bite to that petulant response. It's hard to even muster his usual level of doubt -- not when Dextera had sounded so certain. 'I won't lose you.' How the hell can he bring himself to argue with that, even if he knows on a rational level that he should?
Gen exhales hoarsely once more before pulling away his hand, willing himself to keep a straight face. But maybe it doesn't matter much if he can't quite accomplish it -- not when he instead reaches forward to snag his fingers into Dextera's sleeve, tugging him just a little closer. ]
... alright. [ He'll believe it. He'll permit himself to fully believe what Dextera says. ] And you? Seems unfair if you're the only one trying. What do you want.
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Not just Dextera's words -- those alone enough to make his lungs squeeze tight, his breath catching in his throat -- but the way he says them. The promptness. The certainty. 'I won't lose you,' Dextera says, and it feels a bit like someone's struck him across the head with a hammer, given how violently his thoughts go blank.
Though Gen says nothing for a moment, only looking at Dextera in silence, it must be painfully obvious that he's struggling to fight back an overwhelming deluge of tangled emotions. Shock, confusion, disbelief. But more than any of those --
a violently spiraling sense of infatuation. (Longing and possessive.) ]
That's ... [ It slips out loud first, before he tries to gather himself. Gen swallows thickly as he thoughtlessly brings his free hand up to his face; his reflexively attempt to hide his expression that way is rather undermined by the visible way his canine ears flatten back for a moment, clearly overwhelmed. ] S'that right. [ He closes his eyes as he exhales slowly, trying to will his thundering pulse calm. ] You know that's easier said than done.
[ But there's no real bite to that petulant response. It's hard to even muster his usual level of doubt -- not when Dextera had sounded so certain. 'I won't lose you.' How the hell can he bring himself to argue with that, even if he knows on a rational level that he should?
Gen exhales hoarsely once more before pulling away his hand, willing himself to keep a straight face. But maybe it doesn't matter much if he can't quite accomplish it -- not when he instead reaches forward to snag his fingers into Dextera's sleeve, tugging him just a little closer. ]
... alright. [ He'll believe it. He'll permit himself to fully believe what Dextera says. ] And you? Seems unfair if you're the only one trying. What do you want.