[Noé tries very hard to stay still, at least initially, while Vanitas is still gradually readying himself. It takes a lot of effort to. He clutches at the blanket underneath him, biting at his lower lip without thinking as he adjusts to the sensation. The feeling. It's new, but far from unpleasant. He reminds himself to breathe, to try not to arc his back, to stay still for now. To give them time to both adjust and get used to this.
One hand raises to clumsily wipe at his mouth at the familiar metallic taste of blood from nicking his lower lip. He takes a breath, his chest rising and falling with it as he shivers, and not from the cold.]
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One hand raises to clumsily wipe at his mouth at the familiar metallic taste of blood from nicking his lower lip. He takes a breath, his chest rising and falling with it as he shivers, and not from the cold.]
Ahh.....