[ Cute... ]

So you were expecting this. Planning to put me through the wringer?

[ Between soda-fizzy sips of Fonta, he tests the contours of Mira's fingers against his own. Thumbing along the bumps of their knuckles is too telling; he can barely restrain himself, confined only by the gentleness he's shown. Lowering his guard, Tartaglia moves out of the monotony of simply being led along to match Mira's pace. ]

Not that it's hard to admit. I've been looking forward to today.

[ Too bad he's insatiable. Soothing the bloodlust that lurks inside his skin and tears its way into all of his dreams probably needs a more reprimanding touch. Then again, he never learns. One step eats another and Tartaglia feeds the momentum by lengthening his stride. ]

When I win, spend more time with me. A second date, at least. And— another hug would be nice. Biggest one you can pull off.