[The lack of thrown ice is a true testament to how far their relationship had grown. In frankness, Usui hasn't pondered if the bowl of ice could become a projectile when it very well could with tensions and heat running high. On a day like this the notion of retaliation by trowing away precious ice is wasteful.
Chances are he'd of stood still for the brief respite from the heat a face full of ice cubes would bring. Barring the pain of taking a metal bowl to the face as well, but his forte in foresight dictates Misaki isn't irrational enough to throw anything at him including the influence of the weather on her.
He gets it more than must the knotted discontent with yourself by showing weakness being he's not fond of showing any himself. However he's not vain to the point of hubris to deny assistance when it's obvious it's required. Illness for one strikes up a fine reason to seek help and put the mask of pride away, but there's no illness here.
A sickness of high numbers on the thermostat; yes. No actual illness, unless boredom can qualify. Boredom is curable, though not like in ways concern is.]
Feeling sleepy then. [He cuts in rude as all get out and out of worry. Usui is good for distractions and he knows it. Reassessment of the situation is called for. Less push and more lead to draw her out of this state of working too hard for little good reason.
He sighs, missing her hand and ear, and tugs a tad tighter to let his chin fall on her shoulder. Laughter and footsteps are outwardly ignored since worry over other people's perception of him has never particularly bothered him. It's one of the few worries that doesn't eat at him.]
For now because you stopped working. [The latter half of her words tickles him into a faint chuckle cool like his icy breath. Fingers left, though undisturbed from their mission to stop her from working. They travel behind her to the chair inching back further away, his chin lingering long as it can before lifting away to ease the chair back more from the desk.]
From standing? My, you do need a break to cool off. [He's sing talking again from behind her. The urge to spin her around and seat her on the desk passes his thoughts. The mess of paperwork stops him, for now, the spinning her around still follows through; any hitches resting upon her.
Hands pull at her waist to spin her around, the motion suggestive far more demanded. When the spinning stops or she looks upon him, it's a warm smile of an endearing sort that's at odds with the baking warmth of the air.]
That's better. [Always better to see her face.] I'm genuinely worried about you and the paperwork isn't of vital importance, is it? Unless you're feeling warmer for me, then it's something I really ought to take care of.
no subject
Chances are he'd of stood still for the brief respite from the heat a face full of ice cubes would bring. Barring the pain of taking a metal bowl to the face as well, but his forte in foresight dictates Misaki isn't irrational enough to throw anything at him including the influence of the weather on her.
He gets it more than must the knotted discontent with yourself by showing weakness being he's not fond of showing any himself. However he's not vain to the point of hubris to deny assistance when it's obvious it's required. Illness for one strikes up a fine reason to seek help and put the mask of pride away, but there's no illness here.
A sickness of high numbers on the thermostat; yes. No actual illness, unless boredom can qualify. Boredom is curable, though not like in ways concern is.]
Feeling sleepy then. [He cuts in rude as all get out and out of worry. Usui is good for distractions and he knows it. Reassessment of the situation is called for. Less push and more lead to draw her out of this state of working too hard for little good reason.
He sighs, missing her hand and ear, and tugs a tad tighter to let his chin fall on her shoulder. Laughter and footsteps are outwardly ignored since worry over other people's perception of him has never particularly bothered him. It's one of the few worries that doesn't eat at him.]
For now because you stopped working. [The latter half of her words tickles him into a faint chuckle cool like his icy breath. Fingers left, though undisturbed from their mission to stop her from working. They travel behind her to the chair inching back further away, his chin lingering long as it can before lifting away to ease the chair back more from the desk.]
From standing? My, you do need a break to cool off. [He's sing talking again from behind her. The urge to spin her around and seat her on the desk passes his thoughts. The mess of paperwork stops him, for now, the spinning her around still follows through; any hitches resting upon her.
Hands pull at her waist to spin her around, the motion suggestive far more demanded. When the spinning stops or she looks upon him, it's a warm smile of an endearing sort that's at odds with the baking warmth of the air.]
That's better. [Always better to see her face.] I'm genuinely worried about you and the paperwork isn't of vital importance, is it? Unless you're feeling warmer for me, then it's something I really ought to take care of.