[Thomas understood the feeling completely. And he wasn't in the Glade nowhere near as much as Minho had been. When he started to get too nervous, or anxious, he just couldn't stand or sit still. He had to move, walk, run if he could. If nothing else, it would help him clear his mind a little, having to stay focused on the ground.
Yet, as it was... He was glad for this, too. He had nothing that was worrying him too much, at the moment. Their friends were on schedule, the house was safe, they had food and blankets, and they were closer to their destination. Everyone was safe and sound and, well. This was just nice. It had been a while since he had had time to just relax. Or as much as one could relax out here, anyway. As much as his head would allow.
Once the jacket was off, Thomas set it aside, and his hands were back on Minho's waist right after, moving under the hem of his shirt and carefully pulling it up. At the words, he snorted (though he liked the sound of Minho's laugh), looking up (but not moving his head) to meet Minho's eyes.]
You make it sound like you only met me yesterday.
[There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, though, letting Minho know that that was a tease back, that his words hadn't gone completely over his head.
As for the pattern, he didn't need to draw it-- The shape was well engraved in his mind. A lightning tree of sorts, covering up a good portion of Minho's torso. Yet, in spite of knowing how it was, as soon as the shirt was high enough that he could see it again, Thomas' eyes widened, once more, in mild-fascination.
It really was very pretty.
Pulling the shirt fully away, Thomas took a moment to just look, again, lips parting slightly as he did so. The room had much more light, this time, allowing him to see everything better.
It took him a good minute or two to realize he had been staring. Blinking, he licked his lips, completely on instinct, and brought the bottle of oil to his lap, hands working on getting it open.]
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Yet, as it was... He was glad for this, too. He had nothing that was worrying him too much, at the moment. Their friends were on schedule, the house was safe, they had food and blankets, and they were closer to their destination. Everyone was safe and sound and, well. This was just nice. It had been a while since he had had time to just relax. Or as much as one could relax out here, anyway. As much as his head would allow.
Once the jacket was off, Thomas set it aside, and his hands were back on Minho's waist right after, moving under the hem of his shirt and carefully pulling it up. At the words, he snorted (though he liked the sound of Minho's laugh), looking up (but not moving his head) to meet Minho's eyes.]
You make it sound like you only met me yesterday.
[There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, though, letting Minho know that that was a tease back, that his words hadn't gone completely over his head.
As for the pattern, he didn't need to draw it-- The shape was well engraved in his mind. A lightning tree of sorts, covering up a good portion of Minho's torso. Yet, in spite of knowing how it was, as soon as the shirt was high enough that he could see it again, Thomas' eyes widened, once more, in mild-fascination.
It really was very pretty.
Pulling the shirt fully away, Thomas took a moment to just look, again, lips parting slightly as he did so. The room had much more light, this time, allowing him to see everything better.
It took him a good minute or two to realize he had been staring. Blinking, he licked his lips, completely on instinct, and brought the bottle of oil to his lap, hands working on getting it open.]
Sit down. It will be easier that way.