The familiar buzz of a message pinging through his phone destroys the careful focus Natsuki often regarded his work with, a soft huff sounds from the man before swiftly dying into something akin to a choking sound; A message from Shin often was fine enough, great even because it meant the idiot clairvoyant hadn't landed himself in some trouble and that meant the weapon smith could relax and breathe easy over worrying for the blonde.
( Asshole... )
Dark eyes are quick to skim over the words, once, twice, then a third time to try and get his brain to comprehend the words on his screen. Long fingers are swift as they type what he thinks works best, or what he hopes makes sense considering how fried his brain is.
[ TXT ] : woah
[ TXT ] : no hello?? how are you Natsuki??? just going straight for it huh...
[ TXT ] : okay 👍🏼
@tsukiigami | Asakura Shin;;
[ TXT ] : i want your legs wrapped around my head.













