in the way of blatant unfamiliarity, it's- strange, being asked to travel about in the night, nevermind by someone like caesar -- someone with whom he shares a particular history, interwoven as it is with horrible, devastating lows.
but it's also true that there have been rising highs, positivity digging into what was once uncertainty and a fear that clung desperately to the walls and steadily picking at it, not ripping it away but instead gently prying each jagged claw from plaster and wood.
though wamuu silently questions caesar's motivations as to why he'd want to make such a trip in the night, there's no suspicion he holds, no concerns beyond a logical wondering about caesar's vision and how if the fuel for the lamp ran out, how he would have to navigate on the way home.
(he wouldn't mind, of course, as it's hardly a taxing thing for him to do -- but would it be necessary? would caesar's pride (hopefully) allow for it in the first place?)
pulled out of his thoughts by caesar's confirmation of their arrival, he instinctively moves to assist in offloading the contents of the carried pack, only for caesar to render it unnecessary so easily and leaving wamuu to stand there, hands raised rather uselessly for a moment, with him feeling slightly foolish when he processes as much a second or two later but ultimately shrugging it off.
if anything, the preparedness impresses him, he simply lacks the wording right then to express as much.
and for the moment, he's luckily been saved from needing to scramble and name something specific right then and there by caesar's next inquiry. unfortunately for wamuu, he finds himself near-immediately tripping over words that die in his throat once he properly processes the sight of the other's new clothing.
to see another in their underclothing isn't exactly an extreme rarity, especially when in the same dwelling for so (relatively) long, but -- oh. oh. these aren't what he thought they were at all. and such a lovely shade of blue… he almost- wonders if they were.. chosen specifically for his enjoyment. but perhaps that's a bit too self-absorbed to think, is it not…?
in any case, wamuu takes a moment to clear his throat before it clicks with him that- perhaps he should.. remove his own clothing. there's no shirt to speak of, but pants, on the other hand…
hooking his thumbs under the waistband, he cautiously removes them (too slowly would seem odd, but too quickly would be too eager, wouldn't it?), halfheartedly folding them before straightening himself, revealing that he is donned in boxers. not much of a surprise, except his.. are also blue. not the exact, eye-catching shade of caesar's, but still -- rather predictably - blue.
he huffs quietly, amused, before he offers a nod and, "of course i am. after you..?"
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