[Akira completely ignores the frustrated grumblings of the crew (Great, now we have to re-shoot the scene!) to meet Makoto halfway, one hand extended, fingers reaching for her shoulder. there's relief in his eyes and a lopsided smile on his lips-- genuine happiness at seeing her again, after so many months apart-- but. . . it's all edged with a slight bit of anxiety, too. a visible concern that slants his brows, that draws tight tension to the set of his jaw and the slopes of his shoulders]
[. . . though once Akira notices what she is wearing. . . he stops just short of actually touching her, jerking his hand back with a light flush to his cheeks, knowing better to breach the personal boundaries of someone who is so scantily clad and also?? probably?? very confused about where she is?]
It's me. [a firm reassurance, before he launches into a whirlwind of questions] Are you okay? How long have you been here?
no subject
[. . . though once Akira notices what she is wearing. . . he stops just short of actually touching her, jerking his hand back with a light flush to his cheeks, knowing better to breach the personal boundaries of someone who is so scantily clad and also?? probably?? very confused about where she is?]
It's me. [a firm reassurance, before he launches into a whirlwind of questions] Are you okay? How long have you been here?
[. . .]
Dooooo you want my jacket. . .?