[A breeze blows by them, cold enough that Kazuha's breath comes out in a puff of steam. His cheeks are slightly rosy, blushing from the cold, and against all the dark colors of his clothes the pink of his cheeks stands out starkly on his pale cheeks and hair.
He watches the concern etch across Scaramouche's features, wondering what he's thinking at the moment, the other man's eyes fixed on his hair rather than his face. His hand remains settled on the doll's shoulder, resting gently on his arm.
The offer to fix his hair drags out a fond look from him, more reflex than on purpose. Scaramouche is the one who pulled it free, causing it to need to be fixed, and now is offering to fix it. What a metaphor for the man's conduct in general. Despite how they have hurt and frustrated him, Scaramouche's flaws are one of the things that endeared him to Kazuha.
Kazuha keeps that thought to himself.]
I will let you do as you like.
[Hair down or up, it doesn't matter to him. It wasn't like it was a combat scenario anyway.
The samurai watches the little maples unfurl in the doll's hair, and for a moment his expression remains unreadable, his hand lifting from his shoulder to touch one of the small leaves that were a sign of their bond. They'd been absent before— why now?]
no subject
He watches the concern etch across Scaramouche's features, wondering what he's thinking at the moment, the other man's eyes fixed on his hair rather than his face. His hand remains settled on the doll's shoulder, resting gently on his arm.
The offer to fix his hair drags out a fond look from him, more reflex than on purpose. Scaramouche is the one who pulled it free, causing it to need to be fixed, and now is offering to fix it. What a metaphor for the man's conduct in general. Despite how they have hurt and frustrated him, Scaramouche's flaws are one of the things that endeared him to Kazuha.
Kazuha keeps that thought to himself.]
I will let you do as you like.
[Hair down or up, it doesn't matter to him. It wasn't like it was a combat scenario anyway.
The samurai watches the little maples unfurl in the doll's hair, and for a moment his expression remains unreadable, his hand lifting from his shoulder to touch one of the small leaves that were a sign of their bond. They'd been absent before— why now?]
So you were watching me?