#even in sugisaki's arts like dark is carrying him around like a victorian waif constantly dai is always passed out in sb's arMSSSS

[dnangelic]

' that's obvious enough , isn't it ? ' she can even lift him easily , she says , and he has to keep himself from an immediate lunge and leap at her front . long legs hop and skip closer instead , with all the suffocated excitement of a child impatiently waiting its turn for the seats of a fair ride to empty , or maybe an animal --- a bird , cawing for a space to comfortably settle into .

' ... what , why are you looking at me like that ? ' the tilt of her head makes it obvious to him she must have been thinking up and juggling around some kind of question . ' do you want me to carry you afterwards ? ' he wouldn't have minded it either , but this was kimiko . mimiko . his performances perpetually fell flat on their faces about her , and stripped of the theatrics , the grace and class of a gentleman ---

well , he was nothing but his heart , childish and pure . ' it's not like i'm asking you to carry me out on a palanquin . besides , you were the one offering in the first place , weren't you ? don't tell me you're going to turn your back on me now . '

      She blinks at his forward reaction, for she before this could not imagine excitement at the prospect of being carried by her. Nor did she intend for a comment made in 'comedic wit' to be taken as serious.

     “Huh?...Oh. Yeah.” Eyes give a quick scan over him. Up, down. Assessing. He's pretty tall. But he's thin. Quite. How much could he weigh? About as much as the feathers on his back, she would gander. She'd had opportunities to carry and lift much heavier bodies before. And she'd done well enough then. Of course she could carry him. She had no doubt she could. “Easily.”

      Head tilts at him, half ignoring the demanding tone lacing his voice, and asks —----as if it were something she were simply curious about and not something he'd already made certainly clear, “Did you want to be carried?”