[ somewhere between illya's cough and his words, solo starts chuckling. it's better, probably, than letting his gaze track a drop of liquor on illya's lips, wiped off, smeared across mouth and wrist.
it's better. it's not good. he's still cuckling when illya tells him that if he is to die, it'll be at illya's hands.
(it's a joke, illya's kidding, he gets that, he does, but it's also--
he's laughing because it's a comfort.) ]
Careful, Peril. [ he chances letting his fingers connect with his glass. solid, for the moment. risks lifting it to his mouth and taking a sip, controlled and slow, not rushing it even though he doesn't know how long he'll be able to hold something this time, when his body will turn insubstantial again, a ghost instead of man. ] It almost sounds like you care.
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Date: 2021-10-10 09:20 am (UTC)it's better. it's not good. he's still cuckling when illya tells him that if he is to die, it'll be at illya's hands.
(it's a joke, illya's kidding, he gets that, he does, but it's also--
he's laughing because it's a comfort.) ]
Careful, Peril. [ he chances letting his fingers connect with his glass. solid, for the moment. risks lifting it to his mouth and taking a sip, controlled and slow, not rushing it even though he doesn't know how long he'll be able to hold something this time, when his body will turn insubstantial again, a ghost instead of man. ] It almost sounds like you care.