[He's so defensive. Ghyslain looks into his eyes, with that same deep focus that transcends the glassy drunkenness of their surface, and shifts back as well so that his arousal can no longer be felt. It's a barrier, he thinks. Gently, he takes Romain by the shoulders, a steadying grip.]
I am not going to judge you, Romain, and I will not make demands. Please relax.
no subject
I am not going to judge you, Romain, and I will not make demands. Please relax.