[This is the most comforted Nanu's felt in... well, as long as he can remember. Decades. It's far beyond and different than the kind of relief that seeing Anabel alive and healthy was after his decade-long absence. Or even the relief felt here, when the two discovered each other, realized they had each other in this alien place. This is so much more than that, and he feels as though this all-encompassing comfort is horribly undeserved.]
[Color continues to slowly saturate the room nonetheless.]
[If he were aware of it, he'd be sure Persian's laughing behind his back at the expression on his face. And the awkward, stilted way he tries to embrace her back while simultaneously attempting to compute situation at all. The way he holds her is entirely on instinct, arms wrapping a little bit tighter before his brain even has time to send the signal. Her own gentle manipulation goes without resistance, and soon half his face is buried in her shoulder and it's more intimate than anything they've done before and yet Nanu makes no move to pull away.]
[The both of them have a Froakie in their throats, it seems, and hearing Anabel's voice in such away brings a new wave of guilt. As does her apology, and implication that any of this happenstance was her fault. He hasn't had a chance to come out of his confusion, maintaining a steady flow of bewilderment. Several dozen conflicting thoughts are running through his mind and none can stop to catch their breath.]
[Much like him. Nanu's breath hitches and he shakes his head, still leaning into her; turning slightly to speak without muffled impediment.]
Wait, you're-- [--the one that's sorry? You shouldn't be.] No—what're you apologizing for? This is anything but your fault.
i'm...i'm good thanks
[Color continues to slowly saturate the room nonetheless.]
[If he were aware of it, he'd be sure Persian's laughing behind his back at the expression on his face. And the awkward, stilted way he tries to embrace her back while simultaneously attempting to compute situation at all. The way he holds her is entirely on instinct, arms wrapping a little bit tighter before his brain even has time to send the signal. Her own gentle manipulation goes without resistance, and soon half his face is buried in her shoulder and it's more intimate than anything they've done before and yet Nanu makes no move to pull away.]
[The both of them have a Froakie in their throats, it seems, and hearing Anabel's voice in such away brings a new wave of guilt. As does her apology, and implication that any of this happenstance was her fault. He hasn't had a chance to come out of his confusion, maintaining a steady flow of bewilderment. Several dozen conflicting thoughts are running through his mind and none can stop to catch their breath.]
[Much like him. Nanu's breath hitches and he shakes his head, still leaning into her; turning slightly to speak without muffled impediment.]
Wait, you're-- [--the one that's sorry? You shouldn't be.] No—what're you apologizing for? This is anything but your fault.
[It's mine.]