He'd been expecting that scowl, or something like it: Cullen parrying the gentle jab like he's done every time Alistair teases him. To get such a straightforward response...it doesn't feel right.
Cold prickles his neck anew. This isn't right, his thoughts whisper, open your eyes, look --
It feels like his armor's squeezing his throat. "I should," he mutters, and starts to fumble for the clasps. Maybe it'll leave him even more defenseless, but at least he'll be able to breathe.
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He'd been expecting that scowl, or something like it: Cullen parrying the gentle jab like he's done every time Alistair teases him. To get such a straightforward response...it doesn't feel right.
Cold prickles his neck anew. This isn't right, his thoughts whisper, open your eyes, look --
It feels like his armor's squeezing his throat. "I should," he mutters, and starts to fumble for the clasps. Maybe it'll leave him even more defenseless, but at least he'll be able to breathe.