For the jovial, for incautious (however never reckless, he’s noted), the phrasing arrives just as loud and glaring as his very personality can sometimes be. Muddling for a moment, blowing to chill Terrence’s spine as the coffee bitters on his tongue. It’s brought to mind something he’s considered before; a worry, never having felt in proper standing to voice aloud. But, something that has often kept the backdrop painted dimly. Terrence’s hands fidget, finding little comfort with himself. Little less comforted that, for a man who values words so, there seems none fitting for this honesty moment. “...Is that a warning?” Nonetheless, wont to smile in the man’s company persists, however diminutive it may yet be. “You sound like my grandmother. She often told me when I was little to appreciate the people in your life, as life is so brief and unusual, people often leave it without so much as a postcard.” Humor drums up something rhythmic, a shake stirred of his golden head, musing. “Well. I don’t have a lover, but I do have many I love, appreciate.” And perhaps yet still too early for it, his own expressions. Ever always stumbling with social standings, demands, particularities and the still elusive grounds that this man himself hails from. For one that can hold a conversation alive for hundreds, he’s a little lost on believing which tale is truth, and which is spun for the sheer pleasure of it.
Nevertheless, hugging the taller man from about his waist besides him, coffee held off in the other, Terrence offers just his lightheartedness. “I promise I will, thank you. Although, you realize this makes me wonder if you’re off and brooding, or something more, you realize?” And lighthearted more, glancing upright and entertaining a hum of laughter.
