[He's not great with the whole texting thing, Claude's chaos is actually the first of it he's done. Even short responses take an inordinate amount of time and he complains at least twice about why in heavens someone decided to arrange the letter this way.
What the hells is a qwerty? Is that a pokémon???
For all his complaints, though, Claude's plans work beautifully. Both in keeping Lorenz anchored in the present and also settling them back into familiar banter (something that is likely going to become a ceaseless ongoing texting habit). No, the flaw in Claude's plan is thinking for even a moment that Lorenz doesn't start pacing just far enough from the pokécenter's glass doors to not trigger the sensor...a good fifteen minutes before the six hour mark.
For all his attempts to be smooth and hide the nausea that comes with the quick succession warping Lorenz is marching into the building the same moment he's trying to set up the call, completely ignoring the chime, intent on the man himself. Surely the sound immediately behind him will have Claude redirecting his attention from the phone to Lorenz who, for all the determination in his stride, wavers at the last moment. He draws up short, smile wobbling just a little. The relief of actually seeing Claude nearly destroying all the work the other man's put into keeping him from brooding.
Ah but he seems unwell and Lorenz... should keep his hands to himself but some part of him can't resist a light touch to Claude's arm, delicate almost... as though he might crumble away with too much pressure.]
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What the hells is a qwerty? Is that a pokémon???
For all his complaints, though, Claude's plans work beautifully. Both in keeping Lorenz anchored in the present and also settling them back into familiar banter (something that is likely going to become a ceaseless ongoing texting habit). No, the flaw in Claude's plan is thinking for even a moment that Lorenz doesn't start pacing just far enough from the pokécenter's glass doors to not trigger the sensor...a good fifteen minutes before the six hour mark.
For all his attempts to be smooth and hide the nausea that comes with the quick succession warping Lorenz is marching into the building the same moment he's trying to set up the call, completely ignoring the chime, intent on the man himself. Surely the sound immediately behind him will have Claude redirecting his attention from the phone to Lorenz who, for all the determination in his stride, wavers at the last moment. He draws up short, smile wobbling just a little. The relief of actually seeing Claude nearly destroying all the work the other man's put into keeping him from brooding.
Ah but he seems unwell and Lorenz... should keep his hands to himself but some part of him can't resist a light touch to Claude's arm, delicate almost... as though he might crumble away with too much pressure.]
Are you... alright?