Anzu smiles at John, and takes Lev's hand, holding his other hand out to John.
"Come on then, darling," he says, "I see a couple of handy side-alleys, if thou wish'st not to walk too far. Or, nu, we could go elsewhere altogether—I'll let thee take the lead, since I have no idea what exactly might make thee feel, ah. Less exposed. And thou'rt welcome to take mine hand or not, as thou wish'st."
His tone is gentle and concerned; it's clear he won't be offended if John's not the sort to find comfort in touch. But there's also a faint high-strung note there—he's worried.
It's not a precise worry, targeted at something in particular. It's more a general kind of worry, his own instinctual wariness. Maybe the potluck with its noisy crowds is getting to him more than he'd assumed.
no subject
Anzu smiles at John, and takes Lev's hand, holding his other hand out to John.
"Come on then, darling," he says, "I see a couple of handy side-alleys, if thou wish'st not to walk too far. Or, nu, we could go elsewhere altogether—I'll let thee take the lead, since I have no idea what exactly might make thee feel, ah. Less exposed. And thou'rt welcome to take mine hand or not, as thou wish'st."
His tone is gentle and concerned; it's clear he won't be offended if John's not the sort to find comfort in touch. But there's also a faint high-strung note there—he's worried.
It's not a precise worry, targeted at something in particular. It's more a general kind of worry, his own instinctual wariness. Maybe the potluck with its noisy crowds is getting to him more than he'd assumed.