[A disappointed pout passes over Scaramouche's features as their hands are pulled apart, though it doesn't last long as the door to the home is slid open and the promise of privacy is within reach. The walk back hadn't been nearly as enjoyable as their stroll to the ume trees, the anticipation of what they could be doing away from prying eyes eating away at leaving things as relaxed as they could have been.
That Kazuha had seen fit to torment him before they began their walk back didn't help matters. Deserved given his own teasing before, but the difference there was the samurai being tortured and him.]
Not every clan head wears makeup, but as I said, it looks good on you. If it were something you wanted to wear more often than blood, I wouldn't be against helping you.
[He barely makes it two steps in before the mortal is pushing him back into a wall, breath catching in his throat as the man leans in close. From anyone else the action would infuriate him, the words would come off as bizarre and creepy, but from Kazuha it does no more than heat his face up more.
The way his hands move up to the back of the samurai's neck, tangle in hair fallen loose, isn't something he can help. The immortal's head tilting to try and catch Kazuha's lips in a brief kiss. He waited the whole walk back, certainly it's something deserved now.]
Aren't you charming. Have I been tormenting you, sharing a bed?
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[A disappointed pout passes over Scaramouche's features as their hands are pulled apart, though it doesn't last long as the door to the home is slid open and the promise of privacy is within reach. The walk back hadn't been nearly as enjoyable as their stroll to the ume trees, the anticipation of what they could be doing away from prying eyes eating away at leaving things as relaxed as they could have been.
That Kazuha had seen fit to torment him before they began their walk back didn't help matters. Deserved given his own teasing before, but the difference there was the samurai being tortured and him.]
Not every clan head wears makeup, but as I said, it looks good on you. If it were something you wanted to wear more often than blood, I wouldn't be against helping you.
[He barely makes it two steps in before the mortal is pushing him back into a wall, breath catching in his throat as the man leans in close. From anyone else the action would infuriate him, the words would come off as bizarre and creepy, but from Kazuha it does no more than heat his face up more.
The way his hands move up to the back of the samurai's neck, tangle in hair fallen loose, isn't something he can help. The immortal's head tilting to try and catch Kazuha's lips in a brief kiss. He waited the whole walk back, certainly it's something deserved now.]
Aren't you charming. Have I been tormenting you, sharing a bed?