Between the two of them, the folds are managed and once they finish he is at least clothed in something entirely more suitable for not only the climate, but the time period. (He is sensing that this is...either much further 'back' than he can ever recall being, or that he has drifted very, very far off course.) It is unsettling, but no longer standing bare in front of her helps slightly.
Keeping his gaze on her face, he nods.
"Thank you."
A strand of her hair falls into her face; automatically, he moves a hand to reach for her hair to brush it back, tuck it behind one ear (it is a motion that his muscle memory feels as if he has done dozens of times before, which he does not understand) but he pauses before his fingers actually make contact.
Why is that so familiar?
"Sorry, I--" he shakes his head, confusion painting his features. "My mind feels as if it is playing me for a fool."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-03-21 04:46 am (UTC)Keeping his gaze on her face, he nods.
"Thank you."
A strand of her hair falls into her face; automatically, he moves a hand to reach for her hair to brush it back, tuck it behind one ear (it is a motion that his muscle memory feels as if he has done dozens of times before, which he does not understand) but he pauses before his fingers actually make contact.
Why is that so familiar?
"Sorry, I--" he shakes his head, confusion painting his features. "My mind feels as if it is playing me for a fool."