["Oh, yes, well-spotted." Pfft. Would dream!Emil say such a stupid thing? Yet another odd little detail for Lalli to dully ponder, even as Emil finally—finally—begins fixing his hair. This attention is, without a doubt, better than fake cake; this is half of what he's been waiting for this entire dream, but while he feels a certain sense of satisfaction, that doesn't stop him from wondering why everything feels so... off.
He's dumb, you know? Dumb and every bit as distracted as Emil, thanks to those fingers working their way through his hair. No, that part isn't new, but this two-way contact definitely is; it makes him feel almost... sluggish, like he's watching his hand slide up to Emil's temple in slow motion. He just wants to brush a bit of that hair out of the way, see, in order to better study Emil's stupid, stupid face, because obviously he's trying to see what seems wrong here? Duh. He'll move on to the more important thing here, after his brain slowly gets to that point. Food... something, something, all day...]
Cinnamon rolls, [he absentmindedly offers, still focused on brushing that hair away from those eyes.] ...Cake.
[This is the dream dinner of all normal twenty-somethings, what are you talking about. Anyway, as things begin slowly falling into place—hmm. All day can mean all kinds of thing in the dream world, but...]
I saw everyone else? Together. [Well, some of them, but.] I didn't know where you were.
[Is that a hint of suspicion in his voice? He's getting there. 3... 2... 1.5...]
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He's dumb, you know? Dumb and every bit as distracted as Emil, thanks to those fingers working their way through his hair. No, that part isn't new, but this two-way contact definitely is; it makes him feel almost... sluggish, like he's watching his hand slide up to Emil's temple in slow motion. He just wants to brush a bit of that hair out of the way, see, in order to better study Emil's stupid, stupid face, because obviously he's trying to see what seems wrong here? Duh. He'll move on to the more important thing here, after his brain slowly gets to that point. Food... something, something, all day...]
Cinnamon rolls, [he absentmindedly offers, still focused on brushing that hair away from those eyes.] ...Cake.
[This is the dream dinner of all normal twenty-somethings, what are you talking about. Anyway, as things begin slowly falling into place—hmm. All day can mean all kinds of thing in the dream world, but...]
I saw everyone else? Together. [Well, some of them, but.] I didn't know where you were.
[Is that a hint of suspicion in his voice? He's getting there. 3... 2... 1.5...]