[Charles, jesus. Junpei can't resist, flat and more than a little wry:] Wow.
[Coupled with a raised eyebrow as if to say, see, that's why they have to make this promise. Self-preservation is too difficult, too often, therefore... Well, this. He shakes his head lightly.]
Maybe I'll send her a gift basket or something. You think she likes fruit?
[Levity, but he'll at least thank her, when things blow over. When it's settled and Charles doesn't have a burn-festering arrow puncture in his side, then Junpei can think about reaching out to, hm, anyone else.
...And here he goes, agreeing to play the hero again (at least, to the option, which counts), but for Charles? It's not even a question.]
Yeah. Neither do I. Wouldn't say no to less bullshit happening around here, but... yeah, it's you and me.
[He holds up his other hand— it's pinky promise time again, which will shift into simply holding Charles' hand afterwards. Of course.]
So, uh... [He falters, the dozen or so things he wants to say all clamoring and tripping over each other, buoyed further by the high of Charles being back and safe and looking at him like that, jeez... So, he manages, clearing his throat,] How long does this healing thing take?
no subject
[Coupled with a raised eyebrow as if to say, see, that's why they have to make this promise. Self-preservation is too difficult, too often, therefore... Well, this. He shakes his head lightly.]
Maybe I'll send her a gift basket or something. You think she likes fruit?
[Levity, but he'll at least thank her, when things blow over. When it's settled and Charles doesn't have a burn-festering arrow puncture in his side, then Junpei can think about reaching out to, hm, anyone else.
...And here he goes, agreeing to play the hero again (at least, to the option, which counts), but for Charles? It's not even a question.]
Yeah. Neither do I. Wouldn't say no to less bullshit happening around here, but... yeah, it's you and me.
[He holds up his other hand— it's pinky promise time again, which will shift into simply holding Charles' hand afterwards. Of course.]
So, uh... [He falters, the dozen or so things he wants to say all clamoring and tripping over each other, buoyed further by the high of Charles being back and safe and looking at him like that, jeez... So, he manages, clearing his throat,] How long does this healing thing take?