[And just going to stiffen before he KEEPS HIS HEAD TURNED AWAY.]
Ilsa, please.
[...There's a slight flush, though, a flash of heat that he tries to wipe away with his hand as he runs it over his face.
But the question won't leave him. He's neither denying nor confirming, because... He still doesn't know. Still doesn't know what to make of what happened that night. His thoughts, feelings. Even now he's not sure if his views are being colored. Ilsa has always been an objectively pretty, attractive woman. An idiot would be blind to that much. The thing is, he just never thought or felt anything beyond that.
Now, however... Now that he's been made of aware of everything, seen more than he should have...
....]
You?
[In the end, he ends up turning the question back on her...though he's not really hoping or seeking a real answer. It's more to to see if she's also having the same issues.]
no subject
Ilsa, please.
[...There's a slight flush, though, a flash of heat that he tries to wipe away with his hand as he runs it over his face.
But the question won't leave him. He's neither denying nor confirming, because... He still doesn't know. Still doesn't know what to make of what happened that night. His thoughts, feelings. Even now he's not sure if his views are being colored. Ilsa has always been an objectively pretty, attractive woman. An idiot would be blind to that much. The thing is, he just never thought or felt anything beyond that.
Now, however... Now that he's been made of aware of everything, seen more than he should have...
....]
You?
[In the end, he ends up turning the question back on her...though he's not really hoping or seeking a real answer. It's more to to see if she's also having the same issues.]