"Oh you..." His hand is taken, devilish hold grips him as she tugs the man closer, pulling him down to her height, he can only bare witness to her face. ''come on dear....its in front of you, willingly. Take it..."
Utter gibberish is what fills his mind, Squall straining to keep his eyes up at an acceptable, respectable level. Struggling with decorum isn’t a familiar concept so he feels extraordinarily out of his element.
Fighting and bloodshed? Perfect. Relationships and intimacy? Help…
“I—I just—” Don’t know what the hell I’m doing, he admits. To himself alone, naturally. Perhaps conveying that will assist more. “I’m not greatly experienced in… that. Anything to do with it.” It was what he got for being a workaholic, he supposes. Hesitantly, previously hovering hands settle each on a shoulder of hers, fingers curling around. Oddly, the contact soothes some frayed nerves and alights new ones.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he eventually relents, earnest in the admission and mild vulnerability he regards her with.