「‘ ♘;;— ❝Because it’s not… really a problem?❞ He laughs, shrugging and there’s a pause before he winds up curling lithe digits around the hem of his own shirt, tugging it upward and over his head in a fluid motion for the mere purpose of tossing it at Jean with an innocent smile splayed across his visage. ❝You’re thinking a little too much into it. You don’t care if I see you changing, right? And everyone else is still finishing dinner; Really, you’re worrying over nothing.❞
❝It's NOT a problem. Of course it's not. It's just a stupid hunk of wood that's sincerely plotting my downfall, that's all. Not a problem. You're a lunatic.❞ Evidently he finds it difficult to take himself seriously, lips curved upward in a gracious smile that only dissipates as the cold air hits bare skin. Not his best idea by a long shot, he thinks privately, fingertips lurching around wooden corners for something dry to wear in its place-- until he's briskly interrupted by a flying miracle shirt, the fabric of which flying easily around his facial senses in a soft bind. It's enough to make him utter out a noise so unintentionally comical it physically pains him, sputtering and spitting in exaggerated, non-graceful motions. ❝Now YOU'RE trying to kill me too.❞ Once his face is free he shifts to sit on his bed, ass-end met with a pile of goddamn snow. And there's that accustomed look of annoyance, settling into long creased frownlines. ❝... Jaeger.❞ ||
