[ Being on the verge of just dozing off right then and there, Vash remains oblivious to his friend's flustered state. Especially in the lull that happens as Wolfwood contemplates the stairs, there's nothing for Vash to focus on other than the comforting warmth he's leaning against and it's not exactly helping him to stay awake. It's only when his support is suddenly gone and he's left dangerously swaying on the spot that he's jolted back to full awareness. Fortunately, it's only a split-second of being unsupported, not giving him the time to topple over. It still feels a little like falling when his whole center of gravity shifts and his feet leave the ground though. Vash — already having forgotten his own complaint/request — gasps in surprise and his other arm joins the first around Wolfwood's neck as he instinctively clings to him.
It takes a dizzying few seconds for him to grasp the situation before he's loosening his tight hold and... giggling in delight, utterly unfazed by the grumbling. ]
So strong~
[ Vash would be lying if he said he didn't get a kick out of how easily Wolfwood handles his lanky frame. Compared to the Punisher, he's probably nothing, but it's still impressive. He hasn't been carried like this since he was a child many, many years ago; a bittersweet thought that makes his heart ache the way it always does when he even vaguely thinks of Rem. At least the bout of nostalgia makes him more subdued again, settling comfortably in Wolfwood's hold and resting his head against his shoulder. It's not often he gets to feel like a kid again and usually it's only in moments of distress when he feels small and helpless — powerless to stop something despite his best efforts — so to feel safe and cared for in this way is a very rare treat. He can't help luxuriating in it, eyes going heavy once more as he murmurs appreciatively: ]
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It takes a dizzying few seconds for him to grasp the situation before he's loosening his tight hold and... giggling in delight, utterly unfazed by the grumbling. ]
So strong~
[ Vash would be lying if he said he didn't get a kick out of how easily Wolfwood handles his lanky frame. Compared to the Punisher, he's probably nothing, but it's still impressive. He hasn't been carried like this since he was a child many, many years ago; a bittersweet thought that makes his heart ache the way it always does when he even vaguely thinks of Rem. At least the bout of nostalgia makes him more subdued again, settling comfortably in Wolfwood's hold and resting his head against his shoulder. It's not often he gets to feel like a kid again and usually it's only in moments of distress when he feels small and helpless — powerless to stop something despite his best efforts — so to feel safe and cared for in this way is a very rare treat. He can't help luxuriating in it, eyes going heavy once more as he murmurs appreciatively: ]
Thank you, Wolfwood.