Standing properly, he nodded.
“We won’t leave, then.” He replied, the backs of his fingers grazing over the once tear-stained cheek of his other half with the means to relax him; Bel sat back in his seat and leant forward on the table.
“Fran doesn’t have to tell the Prince. Just be happy.” He muttered, a light shade of pink swiping over his face as he spoke- Man, that was embarassing to say, “Froggy looks pretty when he smiles.“
Fran tensed at that. A part of him wanted to say ‘Don’t call me that, idiot.’ , but would he really like Bel to stop sort of complimenting him as well? He shut his eyes tight and nodded furiously, lips pressing tightly into a thin line while his face burned red. Accepting compliments sure is hard, though.
He really feels like he should tell the blonde, though. He didn’t want him to stop. Ever. It gave Fran relief somehow, and he’d never get tired of hearing it. "I… like it when you tell me you love me… you know.” That sentence came out as a quiet murmur as his head hung low. “Anytime and… any…where…”
He stopped there. Aaah, this was way too embarrassing!
(Source: lllussionist)
