My boots. [ Said like it's a reminder, but they both know the excuse for what it is. Andal shifts in Cayde's lap, fingers tracing their way down his chest and slowly climbing back up it, searching out the correct route in that seems suddenly keen on avoiding him. He's really not sure how he got his own kit off when Cayde's proves impossible now. He frowns. ] Why do you have to wear so much?
no subject