( Now he's gone past just love, into falling in love with— and it's a distinction that has Esikko's chest clenching. What kind of person jumps at things like this? It's weird, of course, it's odd, he knows why anyone else would run away, right off the bat— but it feels... dangerous, is that the right word? His eyes follow the tapping of fingers, he listens to the humming that comes so easily, and he thinks of how he doesn't expect to live another year, another half year. How he's near certain he's in love with someone who won't feel the same, who's pointed their love elsewhere. How he'd chained himself into a time loop for far less— for someone he hated, just because he managed to make him obsessed with him.

Hm. )

...Sure. If, if, if.

( He repeats that playful little repetition, meeting their fingertips in the next taps that must be like the previous, he thinks— an attempted matching rhythm that he's trying not to think too hard about. Like the slight flush of his face at the idea of anyone even trying to talk like this. )

You're an odd one. But I can't deny you're charming.

( That energy. He leans subtly closer, eyes tracing from his hand to his face, to his neck. )

I wonder if we should start by taking care of that mark of yours.