[ His grin's practically an invention of superimposed equanimity and partially-forced nonchalance at this point in the evening because it just keeps getting better (worse, worse, worse). And maybe he should've turned down Clear's invitation if he knew it'd entail filling his plate and stuffing his face to feign insouciance, but then he wouldn't haven't had the chance to meet Vietnam, and that would've been a definite loss on his part.
... Still. With Koujaku miming drinking in nebulous discomfort and Clear staring at everyone with an expression vaguely reminiscent of unbridled bliss, Aoba can't dig through the appetizers fast enough. He's chewing around yet another portion of his meal when Koujaku speaks up, and then his expression abruptly flatlines as he attempts to swallow the food suddenly lodged in his throat in sudden haste.
He can't blame him. It's normal to feed food to friends, right? Like an old habit. Or something. Koujaku might've only returned recently, but they'd shared food plenty of times when they were children. This wasn't weird. He was only making it awkward by thinking too deeply about it. Of course.
Aoba swallows, brows pulling together with the movement. ]
Uh. Yeah, sure.
[ POINTEDLY IGNORING VIETNAM'S STARE because nothing about this is unusual, he leans in and snatches the tempura Koujaku's holding out with his mouth, tail and all, and polishes it one go. To be honest, Aoba isn't even that bothered with the outer shell's taste when he's just getting by on falsified insouciance. Quickly retracting, he shoots them all a decidedly flustered smile. ]
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[ His grin's practically an invention of superimposed equanimity and partially-forced nonchalance at this point in the evening because it just keeps getting better (worse, worse, worse). And maybe he should've turned down Clear's invitation if he knew it'd entail filling his plate and stuffing his face to feign insouciance, but then he wouldn't haven't had the chance to meet Vietnam, and that would've been a definite loss on his part.
... Still. With Koujaku miming drinking in nebulous discomfort and Clear staring at everyone with an expression vaguely reminiscent of unbridled bliss, Aoba can't dig through the appetizers fast enough. He's chewing around yet another portion of his meal when Koujaku speaks up, and then his expression abruptly flatlines as he attempts to swallow the food suddenly lodged in his throat in sudden haste.
He can't blame him. It's normal to feed food to friends, right? Like an old habit. Or something. Koujaku might've only returned recently, but they'd shared food plenty of times when they were children. This wasn't weird. He was only making it awkward by thinking too deeply about it. Of course.
Aoba swallows, brows pulling together with the movement. ]
Uh. Yeah, sure.
[ POINTEDLY IGNORING VIETNAM'S STARE because nothing about this is unusual, he leans in and snatches the tempura Koujaku's holding out with his mouth, tail and all, and polishes it one go. To be honest, Aoba isn't even that bothered with the outer shell's taste when he's just getting by on falsified insouciance. Quickly retracting, he shoots them all a decidedly flustered smile. ]
Just like I thought! It's really good.