illequipped | i make another inbox post

[Wow! Boy! Emil appreciates his third kiss in a row, obviously he does, but please!]

You like doing it. Don't act like it's a chore!

[Please! Emil leans in for one quick forehead kiss, free of charge, then shifts his hands down to Lalli's waist as he sits back again. Hmm, what now... Well, he's needy and he wants to cuddle, but how to express this without being so needy about it? A grand task. He'll just... shift back some... come with him and lie down, it's getting cozy time.]

I like when you do it. Come here.

[Kissing that beautiful face is the opposite of a chore, but don't read him like this! Let him pretend like he's doing Emil a favor here, because otherwise this is all so... mmph. He's not the one susceptible to feelings and empathy, and yet hearing Emil say that wonderful thing while trying to tug him down with him is...

...Well! It's NICE, probably because all of this kissing has made him—wait for it—weak; like, he wants to stay close to Emil, which is why, after a split-second delay, he follows Emil's lead. Down he goes, propping himself up on one elbow as he awkwardly tucks himself close-ish to Emil. Should he settle all the way down? Probably, but he needs an extra second to adjust—and to, you know, reach out to brush Emil's hair back behind his ear as he considers maybe admitting this ridiculous thing. Hmm. Would it be so bad... would it...]

I do like it. [A hum of consideration, and then, just because it will be a wild thing to hear out loud:] ...Kissing you.

[That... sure is the thing he's been doing and enjoying all morning, yes, but saying it makes it? More real?? Somehow??? He's not embarrassed, per se; he's certainly not a grade-a blusher like Emil, but some color is definitely making its way to his cheeks. Ah...]

And you like kissing me.

[That's a fact!!! ...And a bit of a question, too. All rolled into one. Anyway, when can he press his face against Emil's shoulder and pretend he's asleep, please and thank you.]

[Oho, he said it!! Emil is instantly delighted, of course, and his dopey grin is tempered only by his equally delighted, very fond feelings, so he can keep this smile to a soft one instead of beaming like a fool. Know that the urge is there, while he settles his arm loosely around Lalli and makes himself comfortable.

He said it and he's blushing... oof... Emil has never lived a more exciting day than this.]

I do like kissing you.

[Which he only says so smoothly because Lalli said it first, of course; it will be a long time before his confidence catches up with his incredibly soft heart. At least he's genuine— kissing Lalli is, indeed, in his top five favorite things to do...]

There are loads of things I like doing with you. And about you.

[Would Lalli like, while he faux sleeps... a numbered list.]

[Damn! Way to launch a full-fledged attack on Lalli's heart! Way to make him momentarily freeze, hand stalling mid-comb as he blinks down at that very nice face, because—oh. Aha. He's not stupid; like, none of this is a truly shocking surprise, but again, there's just... something about actually hearing these things spoken out loud? The difference between Lalli knowing(?) and Lalli knowing(!) that Emil likes him for him...

It's A Lot, but it isn't... bad. He doesn't feel entirely overwhelmed; he feels soft and warm and strangely... happy, and the only thing he can really think to say is—]

...Ah.

[So he's doing swell, as evidenced by the way he pulls his hand free from that hair and slowly, finally sinks down beside Emil. He's doing great. He's one part smug, three parts mush, and he's melting, but 1. Love him! 2. Don't say a thing about how flushed his face is, even after he decides to be a demanding brat once more. Is this even a surprise???]

Again? [Or, well. As he wriggles a tad closer, trying to encourage Emil's arm to move to a more comfortable spot:] ...Tell me again.

[That he liiiiikes things about Lalli, even though Lalli is too thrown to relay what, exactly, he wants to hear. No one has ever liiiiiked things about Lalli. He doesn't even need a list; just hearing Emil repeat that one (1) basic line will probably end him.]

[Oh! Who knew such a simple statement of the whole, honest truth could undo Lalli so easily. Emil watches him blush, and melt, and try to play it off, and oh— he's putting all of those things on his numbered list. He hums, not quite smug but knowingly, and obligingly shifts to hold Lalli more comfortably. Maybe toy with the ends of his hair, idly, while he considers that pretty face he likes sooo much.

To tell him again, though—] What, that I like you very much? You know.

[And Emil, who fishes for compliments like it's a sport knows what he's doing, the greedy boy, but he still has to say it. It's one thing to say he likes Lalli very much - simple! - and another to put the specifics into words. Lalli has saved his life more than once, that's easy to appreciate in words, but what's harder to say the way he wants it to sound are things like... the way it feels to be around him, comfortable in a way he's never been comfortable around another person, even his family. The way they're so, so completely different, but hinge together in just enough places to fit without trying to change things about each other (Lalli's bathing habits a separate issue).

...Sure, he could say those things, but he knows he'll fumble the words and it won't have the same depth of emotion he actually feels. He could say "I like being around you," and it would be true! But not enough, and he's becoming very particular about this now.

He also knows Lalli very well, he thinks, and he knows the kinds of things Lalli likes to hear, so instead of trying his hand at shitty romantic poetry right out the gate, he says:] You're so clever, you know? Remember when you won all of those games for me?

[Flattery comes first, accept him.]

[Lalli is a complicated boy with some surprisingly simple wants, but being liked is—well, it didn't used to be a thing he cared about? It still isn't, really, because he's been the odd one out for so long that it's old news; as long as the people around him recognize that he's very, very good at what he does, it's... enough.

Except, of course, when it comes to Emil, because Emil is the exception to just about everything. Like, Lalli actually cares about what Emil thinks? What Emil feels? And that's... difficult, at times, considering how different Emil is, but Emil is important! So, so important, for so, so many reasons, and being liked by him is—mmph. Hearing Emil say that he likes him is—MMPH. Thrilling! Dizzying, in the best possible way. It's not the same high as, say, being kissed, but as Lalli turns that phrase over and over again in his mind, he feels his heart speed up all the same. Someone likes him very much... Emil likes him very much...

...Ah. It's wonderful to be liked, you know? To like. Lalli tilts his head back the slightest bit, too focused on Emil to notice his own small, slow smile as he thinks back to those oh-so easy games. Yes, he won so many of them, and yes, he's pleased that Emil remembers.]

Mm. Because you were bad at them.

[It's not meant to be an insult; it's just Lalli stating a fact! Just Lalli being Lalli as he, like, reaches up to catch that hand and bring it to his face, because more contact? Yes, before it becomes overwhelming. ...If it becomes overwhelming? Hmm. What matters, he supposes, is that he's happy now, and that he wants to savor this for as long as he possibly can. Greedy...

But still soft, which is why, as he presses Emil's hand to his cheek:]

...Because it made you smile.

[Lalli's biggest weakness... confirmed...]

[Oh, because he was bad at them, wow. Emil makes a face— he's in too good of a mood to be annoyed, but he still thinks he should roll his eyes a bit, to make a point, which is he was very good at the hammer game unlike some twigs he could mention. Anyway, it's alright; he likes the way Lalli looks at him, and that is... special! Lalli is special. Emil wants to tell him all the things he likes so much about him for that very reason! Dang!

He hums, and he's already smiling an easy smile when Lalli moves his hand, but saying all those ridiculous games were just to make him smile makes his heart flutter. His face does that thing it does, when his instinct is to beam full force at Lalli but his common sense tries to be even a touch less embarrassing, screwing up into something dumb-looking before settling into a softer expression. Still smiling! Smiling about smiling— he's thinking too hard about it.

...Still. It's great- wonderful even, to know that Lalli wants to make him smile. That's something so simple, and yet no one has ever wanted to do things for him just to make him happy before. Lalli is sooo good...]

Well, you did a great job.

[He's doing a great job now! Emil genuinely can't keep the smile off his face, giving Lalli a pat on the cheek that's really just a thumb tap, with Lalli's hand still there. It's a thumb tap of approval, before he shifts his hand to more comfortably cup his cheek and keep his hand there, just... enjoying this; he's happy, and so is Lalli, which only makes Emil happier in turn, they're comfortable and warm and so, so close...

Well, surely there's no better place to be than curled up close to his very favorite person, here in a quiet place where nothing and no one can interfere. At least until Lalli has to go to work, but later.

So, since he can't ever stop talking... back to the list.]

...Then you helped me with magic stuff, even when I was terrible at it. And I learned something!

[Praise is, as always, fantastic but—ah, that shifting expression! That smile. Soon—very soon, perhaps—Lalli will have to give Emil a list of his very own, and it will be... something. Something interesting, because how in the world is he supposed to explain why watching Emil's stupidly expressive face is one of his favorite things? "I don't always understand what you're feeling, but seeing you feel things can be nice. Nothing about you is still? I like that. ...Mostly."

...At least Emil's smiles are, um, easier to grasp. The brightest things about the brightest person Lalli knows, even when Lalli isn't the direct cause, but... when he is? When he knows that he is, like he does at this very moment? Aha. So maybe, just maybe, Lalli is more susceptible to ~feelings~ than he'd care to admit, because he suddenly wants nothing more than to close his eyes and bask in this... everything. Making the person who likes him (very much!) so happy, so easily...

It's another one of those things Lalli never, ever expected to care about, much less do, so—hmm. He leaves his hand where it is for a while longer, fingers settling into the grooves between Emil's as he enjoys this level of contact that remains... comfortable. Safe. Something he wants.]

One spell. [And Emil is still terrible, but. Does Lalli want to ruin Emil's happy mood? No. Does Lalli want Emil to keep showering him with affection? Y e s.] You—mmn. Tried.

[Well. Let him make sure Emil's hand can't really go anywhere, beeeeecaaaaause.]

...Sometimes?

[This is as positive as it gets! He has no cute things to share about magic!!]

[this is the romance he craves]

Wow. [Lalli is lucky that he's cute, that Emil likes him so much, and that he's not actually bothered by being shitty at magic— it's not like he wanted to be good at it in the first place. In fact, he was pretty set on not trying at all, so this is all for Lalli's benefit! You're welcome!]

Well, it's not like I was born a mage, so that's good enough! Being alright at one spell when you know hundreds [he's guessing,] means I'm doing fine.

[He knows nothing about magic that Lalli hasn't clumsily tried to explain to him, and... he's okay with that. Really, the effort Lalli put into helping him, teaching him things - that's what matters to Emil, not that he'll completely dismiss magic as a whole to his actual mage friend, but if he's being honest... yeah.

Anyway, who cares!! The point is that he appreciated the gesture. He leans his face closer to Lalli's, not quite leaning their heads together, but almost. Hi, hello, stop critiquing his list.]

I only tried because you wanted me to, anyway. No one else was any good at showing me what to do!

[Noooo, keep smiling... keep telling him nice thing after nice thing, because it's not like Lalli is trying to ruin this perfectly nice mood! It's just that saying the right things at the right times is, you know... a tricky thing indeed...

...So while he could tell Emil that this kind of magic has less to do with being born a mage and more to do with actually sticking with it? While he could go back over the whole "learning magic is the only way you can protect yourself, stupid" speech? Well, Lalli can be awkward, but he's not an idiot; he knows how valuable silence can be, and so he (wisely) decides to keep his, mmm, honesty in check. ...Temporarily. He can do this temporarily, all while he blinks back at that much closer face (hi?) and wonders where, exactly, he can kiss this boy in the hopes of bringing that smile back. The... chin?

...Hmm. It's rather close to Emil's mouth, and that's—whew. That seems like a big, weird step at this current moment, which is why he works his fingers between Emil's before carefully peeling that hand away from his cheek. Not that he wants it to go very far? He only wants to shift it down, to bring it closer to his lips in order to press a soft kiss to that palm.]

I know? [That he's the BEST teacher EVER—no, no. He hums, right there against Emil's palm, as he tries to think of a better thing to say. Hmmmmmmm.] It's good that you tried.

[It made him happy? He was pleased to see Emil, like, trying to understand something that is kind-of-sort-of similar to something that's so important to him? Anyway, expressing that... is hard, so he settles for kissing Emil's palm once more before looking back over at him. Smile! Tell him... more things!]

[He's not unhappy, it's fine, really... Sure, it's not like he practices magic much without Lalli's help, but if he does it at all it's only to try and impress him, sooo. Well. He could brood about magic or he could think about this new thing Lalli is doing with his hand, aha— a smooch. Very nice...]

Oh. Hmm, I know.

[That message has been received! Even before now, with the hand kissing, which is very soft and already making him blush. Still, he knew Lalli had a bunch of emotions about him learning magic - they were connected for all of those magic lessons, so it would have been hard to miss. Part of him feels guilty, then, for only keeping up the effort when Lalli made him, but mmm...

He just doesn't take well to, uh, having to try. Getting to know Lalli is the only thing he's ever stuck with even when it got difficult, and listen, no offense to magic, but he likes the boy more than the hocus pocus stuff.

So it takes him an extra second thanks to that flicker of guilt, then the smile comes back, soft and fond. Stupid magic boy... okay! The magic issue isn't even an issue, but mmh, as if he's going to harp on explaining himself when Lalli is kissing his palm. That's soooo... very intimate, whew. Kisses have inspired him once more!!

Of course, he's also an idiot. So instead of something articulate and meaningful, he comes up with the next item, a classic:]

You're pretty.

[In his defense, what else does one say when someone is kissing their hand like this... dang.]

[Carelessly pressing a kiss anywhere close to Emil's lips? Whoa. Pressing a kiss to Emil's palm? Acceptable, because he did it that one time he was half asleep. Lalli Logic™. Anyway, the only thing that really matters here is the fact that the kiss worked! Yeah! Lalli is a realist—a pessimist—but thinking about magic-related anything now that Emil is smiling once again seems... wasteful, which is why he focuses all his attention on this last, lingering kiss. They're here, they're (currently) safe, and there are other things to think about, like—]

Pretty, [he repeats, dragging that short word out as finally guides Emil's hand back to his cheek. Lalli's never been concerned with... appearances, so while he's, mmm, proud that Emil thinks he's this very nice thing...

...Hmm. There are things in the world that he enjoys looking at, you know? Some things, like the way Emil's hair shines in the sun, even spark feelings, but he's suddenly very aware that a) he's never cared about the way others look and b) his word bank is, therefore, extremely small. It's never been a problem before, but now! Oh, now it is.]

...Is pretty better than good-looking? [Or is looking very nice better than them both? Words! So complicated at times, hence his furrowed brow.] What's... best?

[Fishin' for the most best compliment, ooooor... something else? It's so obvious.]

[What's... best. Well, Emil doesn't know what semantics are, but he'll give it a shot.]

Whatever you want, I guess? Prettiest, maybe. I don't know.

[He shrugs one shoulder and brushes his thumb over Lalli's cheek with a thoughtful hum. Lalli is pretty! And good-looking, and cute, even if he has a hazy drunken memory of that going over less successfully than "good-looking." As a certified narcissist, all pretty boy comments are good comments to Emil... He'll take them all.

So, you know, don't stress! Emil tilts his face up briefly, to press a kiss to Lalli's forehead and linger there for a few extra seconds. Just kissing and being kissed aren't as, hmm, world-ending as before? His heartbeat still quickens and all of him feels warm, but in a comfortable, welcome way compared to the adrenaline-filled breakfast kisses.

All very good!! Pretty boy: also good. He looks down at Lalli's face again.]

They're all better than just average, I suppose?

[words....just tell him he glitters like morning dew and/or rocks and he will Melt.]

[A good comment isn't enough, not when Lalli wants to be as accurate as possible! Partly because Emil is kissing him again and he'd like that to continue, thanks, but mostly because Emil is... vain?? He obviously cares about his appearance; he's obviously aware that he's very good-looking, and it's important to him, sooooo.

Well, that makes it important to Lalli, too? In a different way, perhaps, but as weird as words can be, he's determined to get this one thing right.]

Mm. [Ah.] Then you are the... prettiest.

[It's not wrong, but. Hmm. Lalli lapses into a thoughtful silence, giving the hand on his cheek a quick pat—stay—before he slips his arm underneath Emil's. He's spent plenty of time thinking about that very nice face; like, he knows that he likes it, and why he likes it, but it's another one of those things that's just so, so complicated to actually express. Emil is more than pretty, even if that's the word Emil wants to use; Emil is... well, how to put this... can he just say the thing he always thinks...]

...You're bright. When you smile? But even when you don't, you— [HMM, take two, all while he reaches up to tap his fingertips against Emil's jawline. This common language they, um, know is right there, and yet there's still something easier about slipping back into Finnish to murmur:] ...You are beautiful. Always.

[Or: Sä oot kaunis. Aina. Soft, barely audible gibberish that makes him want to, like, press his face against something and wait for it to cool down, but he doesn't want to move away just for that. Anyway, that's the strongest adjective he's heard other people use, and while he's never used it before... it feels fitting?]

[Emil is vain, and he knows precisely how pretty he is these days, but he still likes to hear Lalli say it. Lalli doesn't ever talk about these things; Emil is certain he's heard him dismiss most things he sees period as "gross" or "weird," so it's that plus his own soft feelings that make it very exciting when Lalli tells him he's pretty. The prettiest. Yes, he is, thank you so much for noticing...

He still has that fond little smile on his face, maybe a touch smug now that he's The Prettiest, but he raises an eyebrow curiously as Lalli fidgets around. Oh, there's more— multiple compliments... truly, this boy spoils him.]

Oh, [he says, when Lalli's incredibly mushy, half-gibberish words catch him right in the chest. Bright, again, like that time with the rock that looks like him, and it looks like he was wrong from the start— bright is much better than prettiest. Not that he never wants to be told how incredibly good-looking he is, but each time he's gotten this sliver of the exact way Lalli sees him, it's made him all but dissolve into a puddle of emotions.

That said, he does have to guess on the rest, but the way Lalli says it and how warm his face is under Emil's hand are, hmm, telling. Now he leans their heads together, as he contemplates just being close to each other. New idea: never ever getting out of bed.

...Ah, but he should say more than "oh," he realizes as he traces Lalli's cheekbone with his thumb again. Boy!!]

Are you going to tell me what that means? [Or, even better idea he just had:] How do I say "I like you very much" in Finnish?

[Of course he's not going to tell Emil what that means! Not... today, anyway. Maybe he'll explain it the next time he has a reason to repeat it, but for now—whew. Even if Emil didn't understand a word, it was still a hefty thing for Lalli to say; he needs a moment to, mmm, recover, even if Emil decides that he'd much rather bring them even closer together. Aha...

...Aha. On the one hand, it's harder to see Emil's smile, and that's sad; on the other hand, though, Emil's eyes are right there, and Lalli can easily admire that pretty—no, that beautiful shade of blue as his hand slides down and around to the back of Emil's neck. Beautiful eyes, beautiful boy! Lalli likes Emil so much that it almost hurts, but not in a bad way; his chest just feels so tight, and his heart just feels so full, and as his fingers loosely curl into the hair at the nape of Emil's neck, he knows that it's all because he's... happy. With everything.

And that's, you know, a new thing for him, but for once he's trying not to think about the many, many things that could go wrong. This is nice? He likes this? Even if Emil asking about this Finnish phrase he's never going to remember is, um, somehow both funny (because Emil will never remember it) and dangerous (because what if he does??). ...Huh. A quiet hum, then, as Lalli considers this before he s l o w l y says:]

Mä tykkään susta.

[Did he leave out the "very much" just to make this simpler? Maybe so. That's Lalli being thoughtful for once, even as he watches and waits for Emil to, like, completely butcher those three words. Let's hear it, Swede...]

[Yeah, there's no way he's going to remember this. He knows this a second after he says it, but it seems like an appropriately affectionate thing to ask in the moment before Lalli confirms just how badly Emil's going to destroy these Finnish gibberish sounds.

Something does sound a little short about it, but Emil can only trust that Lalli isn't secretly teaching him to say, like, "Lalli is great at chess" or something. Surely, the language pranks will come later.]

Hmm, okay. [He clears his throat and everything before he fumbles over this simple sentence. Here goes.]

Mä, uh, tycken- [Nope, that's wrong and he knows it, but it's ironically too close to the Swedish word for him to get the pronunciation on point. Woops!! Now he flounders because he forgot the third word already.] sssss....

[Help him or he'll just hiss like a fool until he has to take a breath.]

[Lalli knew that it was going to be bad? Like, he thought that he was adequately prepared, but—ah, this boy. He's so... Swedish, and Lalli can't help but to pull a face as he listens to the, um, awkward syllables. Finnish should flow, but Emil's attempt is so, mmm... choppy...

...Okay! Take two, then, even as Lalli's fingers twitch impatiently in Emil's hair and he, like, looks off to the side for a second. Aha.]

Mmn. Tykkään. [A harder start, a softer finish, a different vowel entirely? Gosh. Lalli pauses, hopefully allowing that to sink in, before he repeats the phrase just as slowly as he did the first time.] Mä tykkään susta.

[Of course he stresses that last word, because of course he knows that Emil has totally forgotten it. Two syllables! Amazing! And yet he still likes this boy very, very much, because this boy is... trying. Like always. His dumb... friend.]

Again.

[How many shots will Emil get at this? Not many, honestly. It's not as if patience (with people) is Lalli's strong suit, sooooo... good luck!]

[He can't help it if his native tongue is a better language than Finnish all around, sorry buddy. Lalli's reaction is, hmm, not inspiring, but he will get this thing right!! This one, for sure! Being able to talk to Lalli when they inevitably get out of here- because they will, for sure- is much more important than, say, magic spells.

So!! Okay, second attempt!! He hums, considering the phrase. Yes, it still sounds like gibberish, mostly...]

Tyyykkään. Right. Then susta. I'll remember!

[This time, he will, for sure. Let him hastily slap this phrase together, before he does drop another handful of letters in the middle-]

Mä, uh, tykkään susta.

[His Finnish still leaves a lot to be desired. Like a whole lot, choppy and awkward as it is, but he's got a basic grasp of the phrase after breaking it into toddler-sized parts for his toddler's grasp of language acquisition. Phew.

Anyway, he wants to remember this one better than all the other Finnish he's barely retained, so he glances away from Lalli's face to, like, his shoulder, mumbling the words a few more times. A tykkään here, a susta there... The things he does for this boy.

Feel free to praise him at any time.]

["I'll remember," Emil says, and Lalli only blinks, half-expecting him to, like, lose everything by the third syllable, but... oh? Well. His pronunciation is still, um, far from perfect, and yet it doesn't bother Lalli too badly; after all, that's a thing that practice will surely solve. Emil will just have to say this... often! Very often!

Or that's the hope, anyway. A thing he silently considers as he tilts his head back the slightest bit. Emil's forehead is... too far away; like, Lalli is far too comfortable to even consider shifting upward, so a quick kiss to the tip of Emil's nose will have to do. Surely that's fine? There's something almost... silly about it, if he gives it any thought at all, but the it a) is convenient for his lazy self and b) isn't too close to Emil's lips. He's treading a line here, and even though that line is getting thinner with every passing second...]

...Better. [That's high Lalli praise? Accept it and this second smooch.] Mä tykkään susta.

[A quickly, easily spoken reminder that he likes Emil, too, just in case that wasn't perfectly obvious, before he leans his forehead against Emil's once more. This isn't so bad, he supposes. He can feel Emil breathe, and that's certainly a Thing to focus on, but it isn't... bad.]

In Swedish?

[Fair's fair.]

[Hmm! A kiss on the nose - two, even - is very cute, actually. And yes, it's a touch silly, but Emil doesn't care about something as small as that when it's a kiss and Lalli keeps telling him he likes him. Truly, this is the only Finnish he needs to know, ever...

Lalli asking for the Swedish is honestly a surprise, since he's complained Swedish is terrible before, but aha! At last, Lalli comes around to the superior language. Emil is only the slightest bit smug about this. Just a hint.]

Jag tycker om dig... väldigt mycket.

[Which, because this is Emil, is not cut for ease of understanding, save for the convenient pause. Lalli wanted "I like you very much," and that's what he gets. Love him and his Swedish.]

Try it!

[Now, here's the thing: Lalli wanted hear hear that bit of Swedish, just because his greedy little self wants Emil to say "I like you" as many times—as many ways—as possible, but did he say that he would repeat it? Of course not. Swedish... sounds weird; this Swedish phrase is no exception, and Lalli wrinkles his nose when Emil tells him to try. Aha? Aha...

...Well, enjoy this rare noise of amusement as he, like, frees his fingers from all of that hair in order to gently pat the back of Emil's neck.]

It's shorter in Finnish? Better.

[But he supposes that gross Swedish might just be a nice thing to hear, in this particular context! To hear. Saying, it, however, seems—whew. He's just going to close his eyes instead, a content hum escaping him as that pat turns into more of an absentminded pet.]

...Say it this way, too.

[In... whatever language this actually is. He's copping out and he doesn't feel bad about it, because he's terrible.]

[Wow? Wow! This boy! Emil is sorely disappointed, a little seriously— why doesn't he get to hear bumbling, choppy language attempts, too... This is discrimination.

It does take him a moment to realize Lalli just isn't going to say it, though, and he... pouts like a child when he does. Aw! Lalli!!]

I think it sounds wonderful in Swedish.

[Coward. Petting him is, hmm - different? But soft and relaxing, so he'll allow it. Maybe he shouldn't say anything nice at all until Lalli says a sentence in Swedish; that'll learn him. ...But, ah, he's too much of a sap to stick to his own guns almost immediately, so.]

Hmm. [Maybe! But first, more Swedish:] You are very difficult and I think you're wonderful anyway.

[Or, a long line of Swedish—Du är väldigt svår och jag tycker du är underbar ändå—that he will not be explaining, so now they're even. Punk. Now he's satisfied, and it's his turn to smugly give Lalli a pat on the cheek. So there!]

I like you a lot.

Edited (dang it) 2019-05-12 02:26 (UTC)

[Maybe one day Emil will realize that giving Lalli exactly what he wants means that Lalli has, like, no reason to do anything differently? Maybe one day Emil will realize that the promise of a kiss, a compliment, or—heaven forbid—both will encourage Lalli to do wild things like, say, learn important Swedish phrases, but that day... is clearly not today.

Anyway, who needs Swedish when they have this language! For the, uh, time being, anyway, but that's a fact he wills himself not to think about as he cracks his eyes back open. That Swedish sounded so... well, it didn't sound great, and he doesn't like that he doesn't know everything that Emil said, and yet Emil's voice is still Emil's voice. It's a nice voice! The best voice! Just, mmm, doubly so when Emil uses it to say things Lalli actually understands. A lot, huh... he hums again...]

I like that way best? I think. [He likes them ALL, really, but.] It's... good to know what you're saying.

[So don't give him more Swedish! Or, well—maybe he's thinking about that last line, just a bit, but he's also thinking about the expedition? All those frustrating moments when he didn't know what in the world this boy was trying to say...

Actually, you know what? He can't just let that Mystery Sentence go, especially now that they CAN understand one another. He has to bring his hand back around to Emil's cheek, has to open his eyes a bit more in order to study Emil's very nice face.]

...What did you say before?

[He heard, like, jag tycker... Tell Him!!!!!]

[Hmm, more requests from this demanding, difficult boy. Maybe he shouldn't explain anything at all! He pats Lalli's cheek again, looking very content - like maybe it's time to take a little morning nap, and not translate any Swedish...

...But Lalli earnestly telling him he likes knowing what he's saying is sweet, and he does feel the same way... It's been so nice, being able to understand each other here. But the boy. Such an impasse.]

If you want to know, you'll have to tell me how much you like me.

[A steep price... He'll let Lalli choose the language, because he's merciful.]

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