foolsarcana | (no subject)

[ That's the proper reaction to most of what Itsuki says. He catches her hand before she can cause death by poking, grinning in a way that indicates he's completely taking the piss at this point ]

I could compose an ode to it, if you like.

[Oh, she's not protesting the sudden capture of her hand. In fact, she's smiling even more now.]

I think it'd be safer for you if you didn't. I have two hands, you know.

In that case, what about a haiku? Or a sonnet?

Those will still earn you a poke. Find something else to wax poetic about.

I'd rather not risk that.

If your house were on fire, and you could save one thing, what would it be?

[For a moment, Minako's teasing smile softens.]

Provided Koromaru could get out on his own, I'd save a picture of my parents. What about you?

...Well, I was going to say "the house", but somehow I feel compelled to give a slightly more serious answer now.

[ he does appear to actually be giving it some thought; his brow furrows and he eyes the room aimlessly, before shaking his head ]

Assuming as you did that pets would be safe, I suppose something practical, like my computer or phone. It's not a very moving answer, I'm afraid, but I can't think of many moving things I have here.

Phones can be replaced, but that picture is one of the few things I keep close by.

[ he still has her hand; he's idly running his thumb over one of her fingers as he speaks ] I understand. That sort of thing has a different kind of importance from practical objects, doesn't it?

[ and her gaze is locked on their hands, the smile still soft ]

Things like that usually do.

[Cheeks started to brighten a little, she reaches up to rub at the bridge of her nose with her free hand.]

Ah, I'm being all melancholy and there's no need to be. Sorry.

[ itsuki, for his part, is eternally cool as a cucumber ]

Well, it's sometimes a little difficult to see in which direction a conversation will go. Feel free to ask something lighthearted, though, if you like.

[ she'll make him blush one day. It's a given. ]

We seem to play the question game a lot, even if it's not so serious this time.

Favorite piece of music?

[ perhaps if she works very hard at it ]

I'm actually rather fond of the Beatles. Considering we're giving proper answers, I suppose this is sort of a pseudo-question-game, isn't it?

Well, it's certainly not like our usual question game, is it?

Considering we aren't trying to trip each other up, I suppose it isn't.

I don't mind this kind of question game. I like listening to you. Except when you threaten me with sonnets.

Then I'll be sure to talk at length about what you ask in a distinctly non-poetic manner.

You'll talk at length even if I don't ask.

[She's smiling, so it's nothing more that her teasing.]

Ah... am I really that predictable?

[ naturally, he retorts with completely false chagrin ]

That remains to be seen.

Should I try and surprise you, then?

I like surprises.

[ Well, she asked for it. He leans over and kisses her without warning, his other hand braced on the couch behind her; it's not harsh, but there's a strange sort of desperation to it, like he's asking "Everything's all right, isn't it?" ]

[The kiss takes her by surprise alright, but there's almost no hesitation before she gently kisses him back, a hand rising to trace warm fingers along his cheek. Pulling away a tiny bit, she just whispers his name, then leans back in to kiss him again.]

[ He has his other hand in her hair now; there's a faint nervousness in the way he touches her, like he's not precisely sure how to take the lead ]