[ worry clings to that back of his mind like a thin veil of film, coating every thought. there’s a part of him that wants to tell daan to go back to his suite — that they don’t need to keep going, that he should rest…

but then he’s here, kissing his cheek. he shouldn’t kill this. he should make something good out of it for him…something to smooth things out. cloud reaches for his hand with an easy grip. ]

Yeah. And if it gets too be much, head back to your suite. Got it? [ now, his eyes survey a sea of lace and he swallows, intimidated. ] …Whatever you think would look good on me is fine. [ … ] Knock yourself out.

[ and yet he is most definitely blushing. ]