[ there's a moment's pause where marco returns that look of hers, though perhaps a touch more critical. he is not entirely sure her acquiescence regarding the pasta isn't entirely for his sake. it's rare indeed to find someone just as willing to inconvenience oneself for another.
is there room enough in this town for the both of them..........
survey says: yes. his expression clears, and he inclines his head in something of a resigned nod. a compromise, then. ]
That sounds like a great idea. Pasta dishes tend to be pretty large servings anyway.
[ In before the servers make them "Lady and the Tramp" it... ]
That's true. More often than not, I'd be able to eat a small portion of it an hour or so before I'd need to dance, and that was more than enough for me. [ But see! See! She eats pasta, he doesn't have to think she's doing it for his sake entirely, even though she is definitely doing it in this case because he brought it up!
anyway, here he was, already halfway to wondering if there were any ballrooms within the resort to take her to, should she wish to work off some of the carbs and feel less guilty about their choices here
but then she goes and asks him that, and the very thought has him bubbling out a laugh. ]
Me? No, no, I don't... I mean I've never tried, but I'm not really...
[ "graceful," he'd been about to say, but he remembers how striker used to describe the way he fought, and be swallows that back with a rough clearing of his throat. ]
I don't think so. [ Thoughtfully, and here's where Marco gets to be a little uncomfortable as Hamel's eyes gain a bit of pensive light. ]
The way you carry yourself suggests both awareness and comfort of your body and its movements. You don't appear to be physically inactive. There's a distance but also a warmth to your demeanor... I think you would be attentive, as a partner.
So even if you haven't tried to dance before, I think you might take to it better than you think.
[ --And then she realizes this might sound like pressuring. ]
--Ah. That is, if you were ever interested in trying...
[ he's more than a little stunned by her astute observation — both due to its uncanniness, but also because of its... almost gentle perspective. he hasn't quite heard his physicality described so tenderly. ]
...I see.
[ he ducks his head, smothering a small smile. well? why not, given everything else he's been made to do here? he might as well try something outside of his comfort zone that's by his own choice. ]
In that case, if you wouldn't mind teaching me, I would be honored to try it with you.
[ Oh. Perhaps that's a smile but it's too difficult to tell without Hamel leaning in closely to investigate, and she's nowhere near bold nor shameless enough for that.
Her own gaze softens, into something a little happier. For all that she's been forced to dance and not in the way she would have chosen... ]
I've found that dancing is one of the easiest ways to communicate. So I would be more than happy to teach you.
[ unlike hamel, marco has an easier time discerning the softness lighting up her eyes. he feels buoyed by it, prompting him to make his next suggestion, and momentarily forget what a disaster it might all end up being. ]
Then, if you have no other plans after this, would you like to have our very first lesson?
[ first and last, lbr. marco has no delusions he'd make a very good student, so he imagines it would be a brief stint, if only to humor him. ]
[ He's about to learn that Hamel doesn't need him to be a good dancer to let him Dance.
But for all that her gazes might be more subtle, there's no mistaking the way she brightens now, once he's made an offer. She would have been fine making plans for another day, but to offer it immediately after their meal?
Congratulations, Marco. This is a rare level of delight for her. ]
[ now where the hell did all this sunlight come from—
no, but it's certainly quite the shift, isn't it? marco is a little taken aback by it at first. it's not as if he can claim to know hamel all that well, but he's certainly only ever seen her in a more subdued light. he thinks, just now, that he might have just gotten a preview of her when she's dancing... to think that she could find so much joy in the mere teaching of a simpleton like him. it makes him that much more glad he ever brought it up in the first place. ]
I'm sure we'll find a room around here big enough.
[ She's easing back into the usual quiet, almost as though that moment of joy was but a brief twinkle in the sky. Something that might have been imagined. ]
When I dance, I can create illusions. They won't harm you and you won't see anything to impact your mental state [ except her naked, maybe ] but within that, music should exist as well. If that's all right with you.
[ She's aware it might be a little overwhelming. ]
[ it should be noted there had been a definitive pause before answering. but that at least implies he'd really thought it through, as opposed to just saying what he thinks she wants. he doesn't know much of illusions (that aren't prompted by grief, or stress, or both) but he supposes if he's to be submitted to one, he can find no better person to guide him along than hamel herself.
she didn't seem particularly cruel, after all.
they lapse into an easy and expected lull when the food arrives. perhaps just as expectedly, the salads weren't too filling at all, and so a shared pasta plate is eventually ordered to fill in the gap. overall, the dinner is a cozy, pleasant thing, though perhaps it is far more casual than the house expects from a date...
because no sooner than marco had stood beside hamel's chair to pull it back for her as she stands, does the lovely dress she wears suddenly flicker out of existence, and he's left staring down at what is certainly not meant for public attention. ]
M-Miss Hamel—!
[ after a brief shock he reacts impulsively, grabbing at the long tablecloth just within reach to draw it over her, covering her from the neck down. it's... quite the commotion, and all their finished plates and glasses go clattering to the floor, some breaking in the process. ]
[ is all Hamel can get out, a bit blankly, when Marco suddenly panics and whips the tablecloth from its god-given place on the table to draw it over her instead. And it's perhaps very clear that she has no idea why he decided to do that, because as far as she's concerned, her dress has never left her body (yet).
The shattering of a couple of the glasses startles her more, backing up a little against Marco in her shock (though she's at least now got a tablecloth over her, saving his eyes apparently). ]
Marco?? Did--something happen?
[ Well, now everyone, diners and waitstaff are staring at the both of them. ]
[ for someone who values pragmatism and forethought, he most certainly did not think this shit through. all around them, the din quiets into an almost deafening silence, as several patrons turn in their seat and blatantly ogle. marco stands, feet planted firmly on the ground, but feeling oddly weightless as if he were floating along in the air, the only thing tethering him to the ground the solid press of hamel's petite body against his.
he is very keenly aware of a heat crawling up the back of his neck, curling around his ears. ]
I'm — not sure.
[ his voice is quiet, hushed. though he knows they've already got the entire restaurant's attention, he doesn't dare raise his next words louder than a whisper, muttered close to her ear. ]
I thought... no, I'm certain... you were unclothed. Just now.
[ he could, of course, check. but he's definitely not going to?! ]
[ Hamel blinks rapidly, then moves the tablecloth just enough to glance down.
And her dress is still there. Where it's been. She'd know if it suddenly vanished, wouldn't she? Was she too deeply distracted to have noticed? More importantly, is he okay?
Tentatively, just as quiet, even though everyone is still staring at them-- ]
I... seem to be dressed. Does it look differently to you?
standing rigid, he whips his head back towards a random spot in the restaurant — some hanging lantern or windchime or some other kind of decoration he honestly couldn't tell you right now it could be a hanging ballsack for all that he's actually paying attention— ]
[ Ideally, he'll do this. As there's the shuffling and the sound of things being shifted and Hamel stepping away to very quietly murmur to the closest server. It may cost... a few more chips than the voucher, because the voucher did not know how to cover broken tableware and someone pilfering a tablecloth, and maybe she might have agreed to come back at a later date to wash dishes for a bit, but.
Regardless, he doesn't need to hear most of that, and Hamel murmurs an apology before carefully taking Marco's hand and guiding him through the restaurant. As they exit-- ]
Will this work?
[ She has fashioned the tablecloth into a fine, draping dress over her regular dress. And by "fine", I mean it's quite obviously a tablecloth, but she did her best. ]
I should be able to remedy it in the illusion, but I'm not sure how to resolve it now...
[ when she leaves his side, marco finds himself feeling more adrift than before. suddenly he's all too aware of the attention they've gathered, but while he isn't unused to the negativity being of such a low rank himself, he can sense the definitive shift in regard towards hamel, who surely ranks much higher.
he's tense, still, when she returns to his side. ]
You should go, Miss Hamel. I'll take care of things here.
[ there is no way he can afford all the ruined dishes, and now the pilfered tablecloth, but he will have to hope that some form of manual labor can even things out. that's nothing he's going to leave on hamel's shoulders, especially not on top of the stain on her reputation by simply being around her. ]
[ Calmly. But there's a firm sincerity to her voice. Because yes, some things have been broken and yes, she's wrapped in a tablecloth, but. ]
I've worked things out for now, but they'll want us to return for further discussion later on; tomorrow, if you don't have objections. And if you would prefer to part ways, I don't want to stop you from your decisions. However...
... I'd still like to spend this time with you. Is that... a problem?
[ She can gracefully withdraw if it is, but she's already growing fond of Marco's company. There are ways around his current "affliction", after all, but the important thing here is his comfort. Whether he accepts her remaining by his side for now or doubles down on his efforts to shoo her away is up to him. ]
[ he isn't expecting her to wish for more. frankly, the whole day was a disaster from start to seemingly finish, and he had assumed she would have been glad for the chance to step away. whatever is afflicting him right now — surely another one of the house's many, many tricks — there is no telling how it might continue to manifest. right now it seems determined to simply be a cause of embarrassment for him, but if it turns out to be anything like the zombies... ]
...No. [ he should let the day end, just like this. squirrel himself away to his room where he won't be a bother to anyone else, at least until his vision fixes itself. ] It's not a problem at all.
[ and yet he feels — strangely humbled by the experience, though he can't even begin to fathom why. she has gone out of her way to help him when she needn't, and here she is making a timid request from him. how could he possibly say no? so instead he simply inclines forward in a meek little bow, arms rigid at his sides. ]
I'll be here tomorrow, without issue. Whenever they [ you ] need me.
And for right now... [ he straightens, his glance towards her almost shy. ] I believe I owe you a dance.
[ So she isn't infringing. It's going to take a while before she can feel fully confident that she wouldn't be, truly, and it occurs to her that Marco may be the kind of person who might not be able to state his true feelings if he thought it might hurt her own, but he doesn't seem to be reluctant about it.
Entirely reluctant, anyway.
The look she returns him is just as "almost shy", with a tinge of relief. ]
I believe I owe you an experience. [ Likely in a way he hasn't danced before, if he's danced at all. ]
But we'll need to find a room first. [ And then maybe she can shed the tablecloth and see what she can do to alter his vision towards something a little more preferable for him. Clearly, seeing her naked is horrifying. ]
[ "i believe i owe you an experience" is a heck of a thing to promise in sex resort, so it's a good thing marco and hamel have quietly decided never to speak of such things to each other. ]
I'm sure we can find one if we worked together.
[ no, it actually makes no sense that two would be better than one in this case, because it's not as if they plan to split up to cover more ground or anything. but it seemed like the kind of reassuring thing to say, right after you've made a spectacle of your date while claiming to have seen her in nothing but her dignity. whatever left of it remains, anyway.
but! he will go on and lead the way out, careful to make sure she is always at his side. once out of the restaurant, he lets out a little sigh, shoulders slumping. ]
What a mess... [ he rubs at his eyes a little, as if that enough will solve his vision problems. ] Your patience knows no bounds, Miss Hamel.
[ Hamel and Marco are going to have sex one day while doing their best not to talk about it and it's going to be incredibly magical, probably. For us, the players.
But she frowns sympathetically as she watches him, hesitating for a moment before carefully raising a hand to press her palm against his back. Solidarity. ]
This wasn't your fault. I think if something similar had happened to me, you would have done much the same.
[ Her frown flattens a bit, into a straighter line. ]
I don't really consider you to be someone I have to tap into my patience for, Marco. You are trying to help me, even as you panicked.
[ the touch startles him, his hand dropping back down to his side. his eyes snag on the unhappy line of her lips, and he realizes with a pang what he's doing. constance would get on his case about it all the time. get your head out of your ass, adriano. understand the world doesn't revolve around your pity party.
he draws in a deep breath. smothers it in the same second. he can't help the fresh stab of guilt over thinking about connie while he's technically on a date with someone else, but that's been his entire experience here, hasn't it? ]
It seems to have subsided, at least. Whatever it is.
[ still. despite all her understanding, he'll always feel bad for infringing on her privacy like that. willingly or not! ]
—Those double doors look promising. [ he gestures with his chin a little further down the hall. ] Right there. Should we take a look?
[ Hamel nods her acquiescence and they'll proceed down the hall until they reach those mysterious double doors. They look a lot heavier than they feel, moving forward beneath her palm when she tests the seam between them, and it gives way into...
Well, what could be some kind of room for parties? There's an empty stage in the corner and the floor looks well-kept, but there aren't any other indicators as to what manner of room this is supposed to be. ]
I think this... could work? [ She glances over at Marco, inquisitively, then glances down at herself. ]
[ marco doesn't know jack shit about dancing, but what he sees upon entering is a wide, open space. certainly, if dancing were to happen anywhere, it would be there? but it's not as if he knows what kind of dancing hamel does (there had been, of course, that brief moment in their first meeting he had unfairly assumed she was an exotic dancer) so when she turns to him for his opinion, he can do little else but give her a mildly wide-eyed and helpless sort of look. the shrug is all but confirmation of how out of his depth he is, but as for the tablecloth... well. he can give a more definitive answer with that, at least. ]
Yes, I... think it should be fine.
[ he Does Not Think It'll Be Fine, actually, but he doesn't want the cloth to be cumbersome to her movements. he resolves in that moment to simply suck it up if it happens again — or just keep looking to her face, honestly. it feels a little dishonest, but he can cross that bridge when he gets there.
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is there room enough in this town for the both of them..........
survey says: yes. his expression clears, and he inclines his head in something of a resigned nod. a compromise, then. ]
That sounds like a great idea. Pasta dishes tend to be pretty large servings anyway.
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That's true. More often than not, I'd be able to eat a small portion of it an hour or so before I'd need to dance, and that was more than enough for me. [ But see! See! She eats pasta, he doesn't have to think she's doing it for his sake entirely, even though she is definitely doing it in this case because he brought it up!
It's fine, they're both not admitting to it. ]
Have you ever danced, Marco?
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anyway, here he was, already halfway to wondering if there were any ballrooms within the resort to take her to, should she wish to work off some of the carbs and feel less guilty about their choices here
but then she goes and asks him that, and the very thought has him bubbling out a laugh. ]
Me? No, no, I don't... I mean I've never tried, but I'm not really...
[ "graceful," he'd been about to say, but he remembers how striker used to describe the way he fought, and be swallows that back with a rough clearing of his throat. ]
I doubt I'd be very good at it.
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I don't think so. [ Thoughtfully, and here's where Marco gets to be a little uncomfortable as Hamel's eyes gain a bit of pensive light. ]
The way you carry yourself suggests both awareness and comfort of your body and its movements. You don't appear to be physically inactive. There's a distance but also a warmth to your demeanor... I think you would be attentive, as a partner.
So even if you haven't tried to dance before, I think you might take to it better than you think.
[ --And then she realizes this might sound like pressuring. ]
--Ah. That is, if you were ever interested in trying...
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...I see.
[ he ducks his head, smothering a small smile. well? why not, given everything else he's been made to do here? he might as well try something outside of his comfort zone that's by his own choice. ]
In that case, if you wouldn't mind teaching me, I would be honored to try it with you.
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Her own gaze softens, into something a little happier. For all that she's been forced to dance and not in the way she would have chosen... ]
I've found that dancing is one of the easiest ways to communicate. So I would be more than happy to teach you.
[ In the end, Hamel still loves to dance. ]
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Then, if you have no other plans after this, would you like to have our very first lesson?
[ first and last, lbr. marco has no delusions he'd make a very good student, so he imagines it would be a brief stint, if only to humor him. ]
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But for all that her gazes might be more subtle, there's no mistaking the way she brightens now, once he's made an offer. She would have been fine making plans for another day, but to offer it immediately after their meal?
Congratulations, Marco. This is a rare level of delight for her. ]
Yes, of course!
sry sry i'll skip dinner in the next tag!
no, but it's certainly quite the shift, isn't it? marco is a little taken aback by it at first. it's not as if he can claim to know hamel all that well, but he's certainly only ever seen her in a more subdued light. he thinks, just now, that he might have just gotten a preview of her when she's dancing... to think that she could find so much joy in the mere teaching of a simpleton like him. it makes him that much more glad he ever brought it up in the first place. ]
I'm sure we'll find a room around here big enough.
[ oh? ]
Though I don't know what we'd do about music...
I'll forgive you
[ She's easing back into the usual quiet, almost as though that moment of joy was but a brief twinkle in the sky. Something that might have been imagined. ]
When I dance, I can create illusions. They won't harm you and you won't see anything to impact your mental state [ except her naked, maybe ] but within that, music should exist as well. If that's all right with you.
[ She's aware it might be a little overwhelming. ]
thank,
[ it should be noted there had been a definitive pause before answering. but that at least implies he'd really thought it through, as opposed to just saying what he thinks she wants. he doesn't know much of illusions (that aren't prompted by grief, or stress, or both) but he supposes if he's to be submitted to one, he can find no better person to guide him along than hamel herself.
she didn't seem particularly cruel, after all.
they lapse into an easy and expected lull when the food arrives. perhaps just as expectedly, the salads weren't too filling at all, and so a shared pasta plate is eventually ordered to fill in the gap. overall, the dinner is a cozy, pleasant thing, though perhaps it is far more casual than the house expects from a date...
because no sooner than marco had stood beside hamel's chair to pull it back for her as she stands, does the lovely dress she wears suddenly flicker out of existence, and he's left staring down at what is certainly not meant for public attention. ]
M-Miss Hamel—!
[ after a brief shock he reacts impulsively, grabbing at the long tablecloth just within reach to draw it over her, covering her from the neck down. it's... quite the commotion, and all their finished plates and glasses go clattering to the floor, some breaking in the process. ]
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[ is all Hamel can get out, a bit blankly, when Marco suddenly panics and whips the tablecloth from its god-given place on the table to draw it over her instead. And it's perhaps very clear that she has no idea why he decided to do that, because as far as she's concerned, her dress has never left her body (yet).
The shattering of a couple of the glasses startles her more, backing up a little against Marco in her shock (though she's at least now got a tablecloth over her, saving his eyes apparently). ]
Marco?? Did--something happen?
[ Well, now everyone, diners and waitstaff are staring at the both of them. ]
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he is very keenly aware of a heat crawling up the back of his neck, curling around his ears. ]
I'm — not sure.
[ his voice is quiet, hushed. though he knows they've already got the entire restaurant's attention, he doesn't dare raise his next words louder than a whisper, muttered close to her ear. ]
I thought... no, I'm certain... you were unclothed. Just now.
[ he could, of course, check. but he's definitely not going to?! ]
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And her dress is still there. Where it's been. She'd know if it suddenly vanished, wouldn't she? Was she too deeply distracted to have noticed? More importantly, is he okay?
Tentatively, just as quiet, even though everyone is still staring at them-- ]
I... seem to be dressed. Does it look differently to you?
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marco shouldn't have.
standing rigid, he whips his head back towards a random spot in the restaurant — some hanging lantern or windchime or some other kind of decoration he honestly couldn't tell you right now it could be a hanging ballsack for all that he's actually paying attention— ]
Yes.
[ he does not, fortunately, choke on his words. ]
I'm sorry.
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Please keep your eyes closed.
[ Ideally, he'll do this. As there's the shuffling and the sound of things being shifted and Hamel stepping away to very quietly murmur to the closest server. It may cost... a few more chips than the voucher, because the voucher did not know how to cover broken tableware and someone pilfering a tablecloth, and maybe she might have agreed to come back at a later date to wash dishes for a bit, but.
Regardless, he doesn't need to hear most of that, and Hamel murmurs an apology before carefully taking Marco's hand and guiding him through the restaurant. As they exit-- ]
Will this work?
[ She has fashioned the tablecloth into a fine, draping dress over her regular dress. And by "fine", I mean it's quite obviously a tablecloth, but she did her best. ]
I should be able to remedy it in the illusion, but I'm not sure how to resolve it now...
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he's tense, still, when she returns to his side. ]
You should go, Miss Hamel. I'll take care of things here.
[ there is no way he can afford all the ruined dishes, and now the pilfered tablecloth, but he will have to hope that some form of manual labor can even things out. that's nothing he's going to leave on hamel's shoulders, especially not on top of the stain on her reputation by simply being around her. ]
I'm sorry I've ruined our date.
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[ Calmly. But there's a firm sincerity to her voice. Because yes, some things have been broken and yes, she's wrapped in a tablecloth, but. ]
I've worked things out for now, but they'll want us to return for further discussion later on; tomorrow, if you don't have objections. And if you would prefer to part ways, I don't want to stop you from your decisions. However...
... I'd still like to spend this time with you. Is that... a problem?
[ She can gracefully withdraw if it is, but she's already growing fond of Marco's company. There are ways around his current "affliction", after all, but the important thing here is his comfort. Whether he accepts her remaining by his side for now or doubles down on his efforts to shoo her away is up to him. ]
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...No. [ he should let the day end, just like this. squirrel himself away to his room where he won't be a bother to anyone else, at least until his vision fixes itself. ] It's not a problem at all.
[ and yet he feels — strangely humbled by the experience, though he can't even begin to fathom why. she has gone out of her way to help him when she needn't, and here she is making a timid request from him. how could he possibly say no? so instead he simply inclines forward in a meek little bow, arms rigid at his sides. ]
I'll be here tomorrow, without issue. Whenever they [ you ] need me.
And for right now... [ he straightens, his glance towards her almost shy. ] I believe I owe you a dance.
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Entirely reluctant, anyway.
The look she returns him is just as "almost shy", with a tinge of relief. ]
I believe I owe you an experience. [ Likely in a way he hasn't danced before, if he's danced at all. ]
But we'll need to find a room first. [ And then maybe she can shed the tablecloth and see what she can do to alter his vision towards something a little more preferable for him. Clearly, seeing her naked is horrifying. ]
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I'm sure we can find one if we worked together.
[ no, it actually makes no sense that two would be better than one in this case, because it's not as if they plan to split up to cover more ground or anything. but it seemed like the kind of reassuring thing to say, right after you've made a spectacle of your date while claiming to have seen her in nothing but her dignity. whatever left of it remains, anyway.
but! he will go on and lead the way out, careful to make sure she is always at his side. once out of the restaurant, he lets out a little sigh, shoulders slumping. ]
What a mess... [ he rubs at his eyes a little, as if that enough will solve his vision problems. ] Your patience knows no bounds, Miss Hamel.
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But she frowns sympathetically as she watches him, hesitating for a moment before carefully raising a hand to press her palm against his back. Solidarity. ]
This wasn't your fault. I think if something similar had happened to me, you would have done much the same.
[ Her frown flattens a bit, into a straighter line. ]
I don't really consider you to be someone I have to tap into my patience for, Marco. You are trying to help me, even as you panicked.
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he draws in a deep breath. smothers it in the same second. he can't help the fresh stab of guilt over thinking about connie while he's technically on a date with someone else, but that's been his entire experience here, hasn't it? ]
It seems to have subsided, at least. Whatever it is.
[ still. despite all her understanding, he'll always feel bad for infringing on her privacy like that. willingly or not! ]
—Those double doors look promising. [ he gestures with his chin a little further down the hall. ] Right there. Should we take a look?
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Well, what could be some kind of room for parties? There's an empty stage in the corner and the floor looks well-kept, but there aren't any other indicators as to what manner of room this is supposed to be. ]
I think this... could work? [ She glances over at Marco, inquisitively, then glances down at herself. ]
... Is it all right to remove this?
[ He did say it subsided, right? ]
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Yes, I... think it should be fine.
[ he Does Not Think It'll Be Fine, actually, but he doesn't want the cloth to be cumbersome to her movements. he resolves in that moment to simply suck it up if it happens again — or just keep looking to her face, honestly. it feels a little dishonest, but he can cross that bridge when he gets there.
he stands 🧍♂️ waiting. ]
What should I do...?
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