The squeeze wrings a shaky sigh out of him, but he's quicker this time to lean into it, to allow... whatever it is that comes flooding in. It'll take practice. He's still stiff, a little bit.
And he can feel the strange weightlessness behind the feeling, the sneaking suspicion that the more he opens that door the more he's going to want to stow behind it. A little daunting. Like an empty storeroom. He has his habits...
He can't be bothered to identify all of that right this second. Lemm lets his head drop against their hand, a kind of gentle forehead butt that only involves the very bottom of his horn. He stays there, still leaning, and watches their signing sidelong with a soft, unmasked little breath of a laugh.
"I've told you. You're a pest." Still stroking their thumb with his, arm hooked around it, Lemm holds on a little tighter. He'd stay here all day, hugged tightly by their hand and his horn pressed against them both in ways that make his head spin, if he could, but -
- But he is pragmatic. It's raining. It's cold, and wet. The metal rack needs cleaning. They have a broken mask. Slowly, Lemm shifts back, stops leaning. He pats their thumb twice.
"Come, then. Enough." It is not. It is scarily not. He is going to have to ease into this more carefully, maybe, in future. "We've both got things to do, hm?"
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And he can feel the strange weightlessness behind the feeling, the sneaking suspicion that the more he opens that door the more he's going to want to stow behind it. A little daunting. Like an empty storeroom. He has his habits...
He can't be bothered to identify all of that right this second. Lemm lets his head drop against their hand, a kind of gentle forehead butt that only involves the very bottom of his horn. He stays there, still leaning, and watches their signing sidelong with a soft, unmasked little breath of a laugh.
"I've told you. You're a pest." Still stroking their thumb with his, arm hooked around it, Lemm holds on a little tighter. He'd stay here all day, hugged tightly by their hand and his horn pressed against them both in ways that make his head spin, if he could, but -
- But he is pragmatic. It's raining. It's cold, and wet. The metal rack needs cleaning. They have a broken mask. Slowly, Lemm shifts back, stops leaning. He pats their thumb twice.
"Come, then. Enough." It is not. It is scarily not. He is going to have to ease into this more carefully, maybe, in future. "We've both got things to do, hm?"