[ Sephiroth's discretion is appreciated. Tseng is, of course, a Turk, so he does end up leaning over the couch to steal a glance or two at the legendary SOLDIER of world renown who is currently occupying his cramped closet of a bathroom. Is he the type to go through medicine cabinets, Tseng wonders. Because Tseng sure as hell is.
By the time Sephiroth leaves the room, Tseng has reaffected his 'casual' pose. Which is not very casual if you were to judge it by normal people metrics, but alas. Sephiroth takes a seat next to him and Tseng tries leaning against the armrest, which is a thing he totally does when he's home and yet still can't see as situationally appropriate. But neither is being carried home by the hero of ShinRa like a fainting damsel in distress, so Tseng figures he's already pitching a losing game here.
He waves a hand, a gesture to do as he pleases. At least he's not like that awful woman in the HQ infirmary with hands like a lumberjack and no sense of personal boundaries. ]
no subject
By the time Sephiroth leaves the room, Tseng has reaffected his 'casual' pose. Which is not very casual if you were to judge it by normal people metrics, but alas. Sephiroth takes a seat next to him and Tseng tries leaning against the armrest, which is a thing he totally does when he's home and yet still can't see as situationally appropriate. But neither is being carried home by the hero of ShinRa like a fainting damsel in distress, so Tseng figures he's already pitching a losing game here.
He waves a hand, a gesture to do as he pleases. At least he's not like that awful woman in the HQ infirmary with hands like a lumberjack and no sense of personal boundaries. ]
But of course. I appreciate it, thank you.