[ A minute. Fifteen minutes, close enough, all spent seeking through his phone, thinking, deciding and then redeciding because nah, that one's too flirty, something amiss with his hair in that other, then there's one that'd be good were it not for the fact he looked stoned out from his mind which, to be fair, was likely the case.
Finally, he sends a recent picture, taken on a football pitch, himself leaning against the goal, fingers wrapping through the net. The afternoon's sun soft, diffuse behind him; his own expression quietly pleased, perhaps a little wistful. ]
That's the one, please and thanks.
[ ... ]
Wait wait, hold
[ Nova nearly, nearly sends a second picture, thinks again, messages Sen again— ]
Nah, aye, keep with that one.
Chances of begging a return pic off you? Assuming you've any of him, him being Vitaly, myself lacking any talent toward allusions and sidespeaking, leastwise not in this moment.
Thing is, you see. I'm thinking I enjoy his company.
[ ... ]
Here, favour for a favour—
[ Nova next sends a photo just now found among his phone's archive: Sen of about a decade ago sprawled sitting in a sofa, held in careful poise, looking for all the world as though he's forgotten how to breathe, gone stricken. His eyes are fixed on Rin Renault, who'd fallen asleep against his shoulder, their hand clasped to his forearm. Rin's hat is settled on Sen's head - for safe-keeping, of course - and the picture's caught Sen's hand in the midst of carding with clear care through Rin's hair. ]
Vitaly, if you please? And you'll have ofc my undying thanks upon yrself, dear Senan.
no subject
Did he rea[ ... ]
Yeah, give us a min.
[ A minute. Fifteen minutes, close enough, all spent seeking through his phone, thinking, deciding and then redeciding because nah, that one's too flirty, something amiss with his hair in that other, then there's one that'd be good were it not for the fact he looked stoned out from his mind which, to be fair, was likely the case.
Finally, he sends a recent picture, taken on a football pitch, himself leaning against the goal, fingers wrapping through the net. The afternoon's sun soft, diffuse behind him; his own expression quietly pleased, perhaps a little wistful. ]
That's the one, please and thanks.
[ ... ]
Wait wait, hold
[ Nova nearly, nearly sends a second picture, thinks again, messages Sen again— ]
Nah, aye, keep with that one.
Chances of begging a return pic off you? Assuming you've any of him, him being Vitaly, myself lacking any talent toward allusions and sidespeaking, leastwise not in this moment.
Thing is, you see. I'm thinking I enjoy his company.
[ ... ]
Here, favour for a favour—
[ Nova next sends a photo just now found among his phone's archive: Sen of about a decade ago sprawled sitting in a sofa, held in careful poise, looking for all the world as though he's forgotten how to breathe, gone stricken. His eyes are fixed on Rin Renault, who'd fallen asleep against his shoulder, their hand clasped to his forearm. Rin's hat is settled on Sen's head - for safe-keeping, of course - and the picture's caught Sen's hand in the midst of carding with clear care through Rin's hair. ]
Vitaly, if you please? And you'll have ofc my undying thanks upon yrself, dear Senan.