[ First he pauses, lips still sort of pressed against Sylvain's neck as he says this like a very worrisome epiphany is occurring to him. Which it has, in some ways, considering Claude's going to run with this opportunity. Next he shivers dramatically as if there's even a remote chill in the room (and that even if there was, as if it wouldn't be offset by being pressed up against one very warm Faerghan) before leaning back enough in said Faerghan's grasp to make sure his face can be seen.
What's on his mind is an awful line. He knows it - Sylvain is about to know it - and yet: Claude schools his features into a perfectly pleading look he'd perfected long ago. It's all capped off with putting on his best doe eyes he might've just learned from Hilda and her own set of tactics. ]
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[ First he pauses, lips still sort of pressed against Sylvain's neck as he says this like a very worrisome epiphany is occurring to him. Which it has, in some ways, considering Claude's going to run with this opportunity. Next he shivers dramatically as if there's even a remote chill in the room (and that even if there was, as if it wouldn't be offset by being pressed up against one very warm Faerghan) before leaning back enough in said Faerghan's grasp to make sure his face can be seen.
What's on his mind is an awful line. He knows it - Sylvain is about to know it - and yet: Claude schools his features into a perfectly pleading look he'd perfected long ago. It's all capped off with putting on his best doe eyes he might've just learned from Hilda and her own set of tactics. ]
You'll keep me warm, won't you?