( Her embarrassment is something he's growing accustomed to for as cute as he finds it, freckles blending into the deepening color of her cheeks, but her laugh is nervous as she sets the violin aside and trots over to him for an embrace.

He's more than happy to oblige with a laugh of his own under his breath, face tipping down to see the mess of red curls at his chest to accompany the slip of her arms about his middle, good hand smoothing down her back fondly. )

I accompanied a friend to a tea shop she likes; she's still quite new here and doesn't seem to like venturing out alone and risking the embarrassment of being lost. Her tastes are considerably finer than my own, so her plans to go to a list of five art galleries after— well. I told her I'd stay in the area until she was finished, and she could message me.

( He could stomach it now and again, but not so many in a row and not so often, surely. He also seems to make no move to let her go; he's never the one to end an embrace early. Let someone get their fill, if they choose to hug someone like him. He certainly doesn't get them very often. People don't make habits of hugging the General of the Atlas Military. )

Save me a ticket, will you? I'll pay good money, I promise you that.