[ He's ready to go on and on about The Great Wounding of Whatever-Abraxan-Year-It-Is in being an afterthought, only spurred on by that warm undercurrent to Hilda's voice and her hair still in his hand. Until she makes a comment about growing, and Claude drops his pastry onto his chest for safekeeping to give himself a free hand with which to cover Sylvain's mouth. Immediately. The benefits of being so much closer than moments ago seen in real time. ]
No comment there from you, thank you very much.
[ There's lots of possibilities, all of them making it difficult for Claude to not laugh whether Sylvain was planning to take it there or not. On second thought, he'll just leave this hand also in place even if it means no free one to keep eating. He can deal with that since it's one less distraction from turning his attention back to Hilda next as he tilts his head back to see her better. ]
Don't worry, I have plenty of compliments for you, too. Sylvain would chime in if he could, [ not that Claude's hand is really enough to muffle much or that he's really even trying to do anything beyond be annoying - to everyone - at this point, ] but let's see. Should we start with how you commanded all the attention at the gala all night?
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No comment there from you, thank you very much.
[ There's lots of possibilities, all of them making it difficult for Claude to not laugh whether Sylvain was planning to take it there or not. On second thought, he'll just leave this hand also in place even if it means no free one to keep eating. He can deal with that since it's one less distraction from turning his attention back to Hilda next as he tilts his head back to see her better. ]
Don't worry, I have plenty of compliments for you, too. Sylvain would chime in if he could, [ not that Claude's hand is really enough to muffle much or that he's really even trying to do anything beyond be annoying - to everyone - at this point, ] but let's see. Should we start with how you commanded all the attention at the gala all night?