Nice indeed; Reno thought the same as well. He was high on life, had a good time riding a silly bike, had a great date, was suitably boozed up without being so hammered he made himself looked retarded and he'd even burned off a little energy with a solid fight. In all, the day looked like--
"The best day of my life. You know that?" he mumbled against Makishima's mouth before his eyes popped open and his cheeks flamed.
"I mean, I don't wanna sound all gooey and obsessed or like I'm moving too fast! Don't take it the wrong way, I'm crazy but I'm not that brand," he insisted, mentally flailing as he tried to catch up to his mouth.
"I only mean, I've never gone out and just done fun shit for the hell of it. When I was a kid, shit was tough, yo. I grew up on the streets and we didn't get bikes. You weren't smart if you were making friends - everyone wants something from you, y'know? And then i grew up and things weren't much different. You just get paid to be a thug, that's all. Put on a suit and suddenly you're not a hood rat, you're a professional. I don't do dates, I do dinners. If I'm lucky. Sometimes that's not even in the minutes. People don't stick around, and when you're just floatin' through life, there's not a lot of reason to drag things out, y'know? Just hit it and quit it, yo. No fun dates, no kissin' in snow drifts - which by the way, you're a great kisser. It's way more natural with you. That's...that's really nice. I'm fuckin' this up right now talkin' too much but it is, man. It's like...one of the best days of my whole life. I got to do normal things like a normal person and you've been...just...just the greatest. How do I not screw this up? Huh? How do I do right and get like...to the like...eightieth date, yo? Cuz like, if I gotta keep my hands off and make sure you're home by eight and do all those things, I can do it. I can respect you and do right by you...I just...don't really know when what I'm doin' is okay or not."
He rambled without a breath it seemed, frantically trying to backpedal and barrel on head first at the same time, all while knowing the more he talked the more he made himself sound like a lunatic. And that was the problem. Even when he was trying to make things right he was sabotaging himself more, two times awkward for every ounce of suave.
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"The best day of my life. You know that?" he mumbled against Makishima's mouth before his eyes popped open and his cheeks flamed.
"I mean, I don't wanna sound all gooey and obsessed or like I'm moving too fast! Don't take it the wrong way, I'm crazy but I'm not that brand," he insisted, mentally flailing as he tried to catch up to his mouth.
"I only mean, I've never gone out and just done fun shit for the hell of it. When I was a kid, shit was tough, yo. I grew up on the streets and we didn't get bikes. You weren't smart if you were making friends - everyone wants something from you, y'know? And then i grew up and things weren't much different. You just get paid to be a thug, that's all. Put on a suit and suddenly you're not a hood rat, you're a professional. I don't do dates, I do dinners. If I'm lucky. Sometimes that's not even in the minutes. People don't stick around, and when you're just floatin' through life, there's not a lot of reason to drag things out, y'know? Just hit it and quit it, yo. No fun dates, no kissin' in snow drifts - which by the way, you're a great kisser. It's way more natural with you. That's...that's really nice. I'm fuckin' this up right now talkin' too much but it is, man. It's like...one of the best days of my whole life. I got to do normal things like a normal person and you've been...just...just the greatest. How do I not screw this up? Huh? How do I do right and get like...to the like...eightieth date, yo? Cuz like, if I gotta keep my hands off and make sure you're home by eight and do all those things, I can do it. I can respect you and do right by you...I just...don't really know when what I'm doin' is okay or not."
He rambled without a breath it seemed, frantically trying to backpedal and barrel on head first at the same time, all while knowing the more he talked the more he made himself sound like a lunatic. And that was the problem. Even when he was trying to make things right he was sabotaging himself more, two times awkward for every ounce of suave.