Sorry. [He mutters it almost reflexively, already used to the fact that some of the things he does without thinking cross into a weird gray area for Harlan. He doesn’t stop, though, because beyond the startled glance, Harlan didn’t actually seem to mind. He doesn’t mince words on telling Klaus when something hits a line.
There’s a comfort in knowing Harlan is getting used to some of his random quirks and habits; that none of it is some kind of dealbreaker in their continued friendship.
He sighs softly, fingertips sliding from Harlan’s wrist up to trace gentle loops against the palm of his hand.]
Yeah... maybe. I wish I wasn’t so scared of it all the time.
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There’s a comfort in knowing Harlan is getting used to some of his random quirks and habits; that none of it is some kind of dealbreaker in their continued friendship.
He sighs softly, fingertips sliding from Harlan’s wrist up to trace gentle loops against the palm of his hand.]
Yeah... maybe. I wish I wasn’t so scared of it all the time.