Otatso Wetlands das himmlische leben

He swallowed hard as the other studied him, but could hardly lower his own gaze. The boy's tail swished rapidly, shallowly; his nerves were getting the better of him, and he knew he would say something stupid any moment. It was in his nature to destroy any hope of the interaction passing without awkwardness. Truth be told, he had been impressed with himself the first time. But the male had been wounded, delirious then— now he stared with a clarity that made Alarian want to sink into the ground.
The words spoken startled him, though he masked it well. With the barest hints of a wry smile, he answered softly: I never told you, and was silent for several beats longer. The male's accent had sent another few skips through his chest— why was everything about him so... ugh! Alarian, He offered when he could speak without his voice trembling, pausing another moment. Yours?
Another stretch of his own silence followed; whether the male offered his own name or not, Alarian found himself unable to quell the flare of agitation. It was a strange feeling— rooted in attraction, taking on the form of a deep anxiety he could not suppress. The emotion simply refused to abate on its own. He needed to do something about it—
And before he had a single further thought, words slipped from him, breathy and barely audible: You're... very pretty, Oh god, did he really just say that? He really just said that. Ears slicking to his head, he continued with no small amount of mortification (though his voice raised only barely), I— I mean, um... that was weird, I'm sorry.