[ William swallowed, between the warm buzz of intoxication and the words he was hearing feeling almost as though he was in a dreamlike state. Why would Wesker make a special point of saying that?
—probably because he thinks you feel jealous or something, the voice of reason reminded him, but it did little to stem the excitement of the moment. Even if it didn't turn into anything other than sitting on their respective beds calling each other good-looking, it was still a thrill. He wished he was the one who had swiped one last glass of wine. ]
Thanks. You too. ...You mean that?
[ Not so much a question of whether he was being genuine—William trusted that he was—as a question of whether or not that was his opinion or a general observation on the standards of others, one of which held a lot more weight than the other. He couldn't just... ask that, though. It'd sound too invested, because it was. ]
no subject
—probably because he thinks you feel jealous or something, the voice of reason reminded him, but it did little to stem the excitement of the moment. Even if it didn't turn into anything other than sitting on their respective beds calling each other good-looking, it was still a thrill. He wished he was the one who had swiped one last glass of wine. ]
Thanks. You too. ...You mean that?
[ Not so much a question of whether he was being genuine—William trusted that he was—as a question of whether or not that was his opinion or a general observation on the standards of others, one of which held a lot more weight than the other. He couldn't just... ask that, though. It'd sound too invested, because it was. ]