[ out of all the biting remarks, clarisse says that. luke can't help but look back at her with a wide grin, laughing. reflexively, he pulls his arm, the one she's attached to, in a bid to keep her close. if he loses her in the sea of people, then the pain in his ass from the moment they bumped into each other would be all for nought. ] Sorry. [ except, he really isn't. she could've turned this into a war, him walking at a pace that feels natural to him but is unnatural for her, but she doesn't. she almost acts … she's almost normal, natural, like she's a little comfortable with him — even if she still wants to rip his head off and pull every limb from his torso. ]
[ it's a nice change of pace. one he knows, if he thinks about it too hard, he won't be able to work with without stumbling over his own feet. so, he doesn't think about it, and simply reacts, unguarded, without holding himself back. ]
[ he smiles, gaze drifting from the people in front of him and back to her. ] You want me to slow it down to a grandma pace?
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[ it's a nice change of pace. one he knows, if he thinks about it too hard, he won't be able to work with without stumbling over his own feet. so, he doesn't think about it, and simply reacts, unguarded, without holding himself back. ]
[ he smiles, gaze drifting from the people in front of him and back to her. ] You want me to slow it down to a grandma pace?