Broken Boulder thursday, i don't care 'bout you

AUGH IM SORRY IM THE WORST

oh. that's a fair point. delight makes a soft sound, half startled realisation, half embarrassed by zamael's call out. he can't help the blush that reaches his throat, either -- sex is something that's, let's say, crossed his mind once or twice but he'd never considered it with any seriousness of happening -- not that that's what zamael is saying, he's saying something about the long term. right. snap outta it.

"i," the androgyne starts, at a loss, "um -- thank you?" whether it's thank you to maybe trusting him or thank you to calling them cute, or his.. odd but sage advice, it's hard to tell. delight isn't even sure he knows. for a moment he considers fleeing -- but he doesn't know when he'll next get this opportunity and the historian in him rears it's scholarly head. "he's -- so reticent," delight confesses, "i wish i knew more about his history -- your history, i suppose, too. is there -- anything i should absolutely know going in?"