[There's a--there's this scandalized cry, in the moment he's accosted. Where before Yau Si had carried himself like a water lily, like a dewy lotus flower, this heap of man and all his golden hair have come splashing through the cool pond carrying those flowers. His ears had pricked, his calves held him with wave-cresting grace, andddd...
Yeah, Yau Si is crying out, maybe more outraged than startled. This man, too much like sunlight--he's like glaring sunlight, an unwelcome dawn right into Yau Si's eyes, and Yau Si feels practically smothered by him. The weight of him nearly takes Yau Si down, even if the circle of his arms isn't cruel; it's just that Yau Si is slight and doesn't have much more fortitude than soft sweet cakes. He squirms himself away from Jack's arms, rustling himself up, looking more like an agitated kid than someone hot and haughty, for a moment that lasts too long. Then he catches himself in his own petulant glare, and he gulps in a breath to try and steady himself. It's likely too late to salvage himself, now--to reinstate the water lilies--but he doesn't want to tell himself that. He must be more elegant. So he won't cower, even when Jack has his hand, even when Jack rises tall. Their roles reverse: now Yau Si is looking up to Jack's face, as Jack is taller between the two. He opens his mouth to say something--smooth or scathing, he's honestly still deciding--but there's the darling gurgle of that little slime, and Yau Si feels himself being yanked along, and the heat behind him is a hazard. He can only squawk, at first, and again, it sounds angry... His sleek black braid is not so long as Jack's, but it trails behind him all the same.
When they're able to jerk to a stop, Yau Si crashes into Jack, but he doesn't scurry away from it. He ducks his head, draws up his shoulders, and clings to Jack's midsection. He's about half a foot smaller than Jack at his best, but his inward curling makes him even smaller, and there's a tremor to all his tight angles. At last, he looks all the way up to Jack, and...]
Are you ever going to stop manhandling me? Don't whine like that! You've dragged me near to my death!
[But he's still not as haughty as he'd like to be. The slime behind them gives a plesant giggle, and Yau Si flinches and ducks against Jack's chest in fear.]
--Don't you have a gun or something?! [he demands, simultaneously breathless and infuriated. He's almost as shaky as a fawn, even when he sounds venomous like this--and he carries the smell of champagne, too, or something close to it. He might not be sober.]
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Yeah, Yau Si is crying out, maybe more outraged than startled. This man, too much like sunlight--he's like glaring sunlight, an unwelcome dawn right into Yau Si's eyes, and Yau Si feels practically smothered by him. The weight of him nearly takes Yau Si down, even if the circle of his arms isn't cruel; it's just that Yau Si is slight and doesn't have much more fortitude than soft sweet cakes. He squirms himself away from Jack's arms, rustling himself up, looking more like an agitated kid than someone hot and haughty, for a moment that lasts too long. Then he catches himself in his own petulant glare, and he gulps in a breath to try and steady himself. It's likely too late to salvage himself, now--to reinstate the water lilies--but he doesn't want to tell himself that. He must be more elegant. So he won't cower, even when Jack has his hand, even when Jack rises tall. Their roles reverse: now Yau Si is looking up to Jack's face, as Jack is taller between the two. He opens his mouth to say something--smooth or scathing, he's honestly still deciding--but there's the darling gurgle of that little slime, and Yau Si feels himself being yanked along, and the heat behind him is a hazard. He can only squawk, at first, and again, it sounds angry... His sleek black braid is not so long as Jack's, but it trails behind him all the same.
When they're able to jerk to a stop, Yau Si crashes into Jack, but he doesn't scurry away from it. He ducks his head, draws up his shoulders, and clings to Jack's midsection. He's about half a foot smaller than Jack at his best, but his inward curling makes him even smaller, and there's a tremor to all his tight angles. At last, he looks all the way up to Jack, and...]
Are you ever going to stop manhandling me? Don't whine like that! You've dragged me near to my death!
[But he's still not as haughty as he'd like to be. The slime behind them gives a plesant giggle, and Yau Si flinches and ducks against Jack's chest in fear.]
--Don't you have a gun or something?! [he demands, simultaneously breathless and infuriated. He's almost as shaky as a fawn, even when he sounds venomous like this--and he carries the smell of champagne, too, or something close to it. He might not be sober.]