[ He wants his fork?

Strange, but all right. Trahearne gingerly lets it slip from his fingers as Syrlya pulls back, and he, too, sits back in his chair. The smile is still on his face as he observes the other. ]

I have enjoyed this. A lot.

[ It's kind of sad it's almost over. He wants to keep spending time with him, like this. ]

[ As Syrlya finishes off the tiramisu, Trahearne downs the last of his champagne.

His lips are still at the edge of the glass at that comment, and he gives a little smile. He hopes so.

Drink down, he begins fishing out his own coins and plops down what he owes; he sidles out of his side of the booth and stops beside Syrlya, elbow out in offer. ]

And I hope to redeem myself many times over in the future.

I would be more than honoured.

[ Trahearne leans into him a little as well as they leave. His pace noticeably slows as they exit the restaurant and stand in the crisp autumn air. ]

Anything to let this night with you last a little longer.

[ Reluctantly, Trahearne straightens, fingers entwining with Syrlya's. ]

As did I. [ He chuckles a bit. Not because anything was particularly funny--just out of joy. ] And I would like to do it again.

Oh! [ Trahearne's face lights up a little. ] I've yet to find anyone to go wine tasting with. Though it is bingo, I would be delighted to share that experience with you.

[ And he grins, glancing over at him. ] And perhaps we can try again at the hot springs, too. I don't mind where I sleep, especially when I'm with you, but it would be nice to check out the inn.

[ Except just. not bang in it. rip diluc ]

[ Diluc and Kaeya feel like distant memories right now. Trahearne only tilts his head in thought. ]

Of course I don't mind. Especially if he's having wine brewed on behalf of your roommate. [ And he makes a mental note to be extra gross with Syrlya in front of Diluc.

And speaking of being gross, as they reach the edge of town, Trahearne slows their leisurely pace even more and brings Syrlya's hand up to gently brush his lips on his knuckles. ]

The thought of spending even more time with you like this fills my heart with immeasurable joy.

[ Oh, what a delightful sound. He can't help his smile widening. ]

You will? [ There's a tease in his voice. ] That's very kind of you. I wouldn't mind going with you, though.

[ Any excuse to spend more time together, really. ]

[ Trahearne names a nebulous date... Whenever it can be an embarrassing 3-way thread with Diluc (embarrassing for Diluc, specifically).

He squeezes Syrlya's hand, a sincere tone in his voice now. ]

Thank you. I don't mean to be overbearing. But I genuinely cherish and treasure every moment I get to spend with you, and I miss you every hour we are apart. [ A sheepish smile crosses his face. ] I am so helplessly in love with you, Syrlya.

[ It used to feel much longer.

Something warms inside Trahearne when he hears that; there's always been a small part of him that's been afraid of those feelings, of how things might play out. But once he'd accepted how he felt, and that no matter what, it would not change, all his barriers had come down. He'd shown restraint after their initial "date," but now he feels those restraints wearing away, too.

This time, there is a bright noticeable flush on Trahearne's face when Syrlya offers. His gaze is soft, and his smile wide. He steps forward, unlacing his hand from the other's and gently resting both hands on his waist.

When he speaks, his voice is low. ]

I would love nothing more.

[ Tighter do his arms wrap, doing away with all the hesitation and restraint he'd been forcing on himself. He holds Syrlya flush to him, responding with equal speed as his tongue brushes against his lips, his tongue, his essence. He drinks in all the passion that flows through them, a quiet hum of delight resonating through him, back into Syrlya.

His eyes remain closed, but he breaks the kiss just scarcely to murmur against his lips-- ]

Don't--

[ He interrupts himself, kissing Syrlya again. He feels so breathless, but nothing feels like enough. ]

--go.

[ That's a perfect answer.

One hand snakes up Syrlya's back, fingers coming to entwine with the stems of his hair at the back of his head, and the other rests at the back of the opposite hip, holding him closer, tighter. He leans into him, over him, and not once is he worried about him bending too far, or too hard, because in this moment he trusts Syrlya and every emotion from Syrlya that feeds into him. This is right.

Syrlya pulls back for air, and for the briefest moment, Trahearne's eyes languidly peel open, dragging up from his lips to his eyes. If Syrlya is ready or not, it doesn't matter--he gives him one, deep kiss before his speaks, the intensity of the passion in his eyes boring through Syrlya's.

There is gravel in his whisper, barely masked desire bubbling through the wanting. ]

Stay with me.