[Deceivingly gentle or delightfully cruel, Chikusa stepped forward regardless. He'd long ago accepted the varieties Mukuro's touch could come in. So long as it came at all, he wouldn't complain. His only concern at the moment seemed to be fisting his hands into the dress, making sure his bare feet didn't catch on anything by mistake.]
[He let them flow back into place once he was close enough, brushing against Mukuro's own legs as he came to a stop.]
no subject
[He let them flow back into place once he was close enough, brushing against Mukuro's own legs as he came to a stop.]
What do you want me to do, Mukuro-sama?