[...friends isn't the worst thing to be. They're not exactly friends (there's too much he doesn't know) but they could be friends, and given Figaro's...difficulties, he can take comfort in being someone that Figaro can turn to. As a friend.
So. Gepard adjusts his grip on his comforter to a one-handed clutch around his waist, so he can take the drink with his other hand without flashing anything below the belt at Figaro, in the process unintentionally confirming (if Figaro was wondering, but he probably wasn't) that he's not wearing a shirt at the moment. It doesn't matter. Many people have seen him change and no one cares, Figaro included, probably.
...but, that said, that still didn't mean he should just flash Figaro. Even if Figaro didn't care in that way, that doesn't mean he wants to see random cock-and-balls. Far from, in fact.
He should retreat to put on pants, and Gepard will in a second. First things first: the bean elixir of life. Gepard smells it, savors it, closes his eyes and then takes a slow sip.]
It's good. Better than what my coffee maker can make. [His eyes open again.]
Let me go change. I wasn't expecting company, so I'm not exactly decent beneath, well. [He shrugs.] This. [The comforter, his shroud.] I'll be back.
[And he's trundling off to put on some pants, holding his comforter-skirt in one hand, and the coffee in the other.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-09 05:16 am (UTC)So. Gepard adjusts his grip on his comforter to a one-handed clutch around his waist, so he can take the drink with his other hand without flashing anything below the belt at Figaro, in the process unintentionally confirming (if Figaro was wondering, but he probably wasn't) that he's not wearing a shirt at the moment. It doesn't matter. Many people have seen him change and no one cares, Figaro included, probably.
...but, that said, that still didn't mean he should just flash Figaro. Even if Figaro didn't care in that way, that doesn't mean he wants to see random cock-and-balls. Far from, in fact.
He should retreat to put on pants, and Gepard will in a second. First things first: the bean elixir of life. Gepard smells it, savors it, closes his eyes and then takes a slow sip.]
It's good. Better than what my coffee maker can make. [His eyes open again.]
Let me go change. I wasn't expecting company, so I'm not exactly decent beneath, well. [He shrugs.] This. [The comforter, his shroud.] I'll be back.
[And he's trundling off to put on some pants, holding his comforter-skirt in one hand, and the coffee in the other.]