Everything. Flatterer. [ He runs his fingers through her hair, shifting. It's kind of a bold move for him, but he does it anyway; Royce scoots so that he can lean against the arm of the couch, pulling Tifa so she's straddled and curled up on top of him. He pulls the blanket close again and rests a hand on her cheek, smiling up at her and hoping she doesn't pull away. ]
You did do a good job. It's rare that you do a bad job with anything.
no subject
You did do a good job. It's rare that you do a bad job with anything.