( one of his hands lifts, fanning lightly at his face--even if the sun isn't necessarily real here, it's a little hot, and he's tired of sweating through his unbuttoned, flowery overshirt, tired of feeling hot in his black swim trunks and matching flip flops. it's been at least an hour or two since they've gotten here for the day, and he's already parched, already wanting to jump into the water and swim out to see if there's anything lurking beneath the depths; maybe nothing as funny as a sea cucumber or anything he could make jokes over, but there might be fish, or jellyfish, or things to touch and feel and marvel over. it's been awhile since that trip to okinawa, awhile since things felt like fun and not lethargy--
but it's not worth it to let his thoughts go down that path. he's not going to let himself be dragged down by that. better to focus on the fact that it's been at least an hour or two and gladiolus hasn't even offered to buy him a drink until now. and it's all because of some contest?
standing at his side, playfully annoyed, his hand fans a little quicker. )
Haaaa? ( drawled out, like he doesn't think the bet is really worth it. still: ) Okay, big guy--
( his nose wrinkles, immediately grinning, but he quickly darts to the side to avoid being slugged, spanked, or something else retaliatory. instead, he pushes his sunglasses up into pale, messy hair, and moves to crouch near the crowd of watermelons, hands on his knees. naturally it's easy enough for him to reason out which is the best one: the six eyes immediately tell him everything he needs to know about the hardness of the rind, the thickness of the fruit meat inside.
so naturally: he picks the hardest one. patting both hands onto it, he looks over his shoulder, beaming. )
a show of strength.
but it's not worth it to let his thoughts go down that path. he's not going to let himself be dragged down by that. better to focus on the fact that it's been at least an hour or two and gladiolus hasn't even offered to buy him a drink until now. and it's all because of some contest?
standing at his side, playfully annoyed, his hand fans a little quicker. )
Haaaa? ( drawled out, like he doesn't think the bet is really worth it. still: ) Okay, big guy--
( his nose wrinkles, immediately grinning, but he quickly darts to the side to avoid being slugged, spanked, or something else retaliatory. instead, he pushes his sunglasses up into pale, messy hair, and moves to crouch near the crowd of watermelons, hands on his knees. naturally it's easy enough for him to reason out which is the best one: the six eyes immediately tell him everything he needs to know about the hardness of the rind, the thickness of the fruit meat inside.
so naturally: he picks the hardest one. patting both hands onto it, he looks over his shoulder, beaming. )
This one, ossan~.