[ It's tempting to abandon good sense just slightly, presented with the justification of memorable moments. Yesod's hand drifts upward, closer to the back of Netzach's neck, narrowly stopping short of brushing his fingers through Netzach's hair. Whether or not it is in disarray, he would have no reasonable explanation to offer.
It might be distracting, if nothing else, one more impossible memory. Very lightly, Yesod lets his fingertips skim across the change in texture beneath them: fabric, skin, hair. ]
no subject
It might be distracting, if nothing else, one more impossible memory. Very lightly, Yesod lets his fingertips skim across the change in texture beneath them: fabric, skin, hair. ]
...I'd like that as well, in that case.