[ He squirms his leg. He could choose not to squirm, of course, and with nearly anyone else he would be choosing to squirm, to seem to be the sort of person who’s ticklish. But at the moment, with Byerly—an organic response, slipping through an opened door. ]
Obviously.
[ The pinching hand is caught and raised, for Bastien to examine By’s fine joints and long fingers and lovely nails. They’re the sort of hands wealthy Orlesians pay a lot of money for people with pumice stones and oils and tiny scissors to try to reproduce. And who could blame them? Gorgeous. ]
But if you ever do scratch me, I will know it is an accident, and it will be alright.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Bastien kisses his cheek, a thank you for enduring that little speech, and whispers in his ear: ]
And you aren’t all soft. I love your sharp claws, too.
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To be used only on other people.
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Obviously.
[ The pinching hand is caught and raised, for Bastien to examine By’s fine joints and long fingers and lovely nails. They’re the sort of hands wealthy Orlesians pay a lot of money for people with pumice stones and oils and tiny scissors to try to reproduce. And who could blame them? Gorgeous. ]
But if you ever do scratch me, I will know it is an accident, and it will be alright.