[It's easy for Majima to forget sometimes that Ros is from eighty years before his time, not to mention halfway around a world that no longer exists. Pants in the water make him overdressed, as far as he's concerned.
But his eye is elsewhere, too, trying desperately to avoid Ros' by now transparent shirt. When she moves her hair away from her neck, she moves just right to let the moonlight make contact with her slick skin. She's as pale as always, but it gives her an ethereal glow much more suited to the immortal being she claims to be. It draws sharp lines on her face, highlighting the splash of freckles there and the confident set to her brow. That's all unusual where he comes from, but Majima finds he's gotten particularly used to being around her. Comfortable, even.
Majima rests his feet on a precipice along the cave wall just under the water, and returns his gaze back to the lagoon and the fringe of the jungle on the opposite shore.]
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But his eye is elsewhere, too, trying desperately to avoid Ros' by now transparent shirt. When she moves her hair away from her neck, she moves just right to let the moonlight make contact with her slick skin. She's as pale as always, but it gives her an ethereal glow much more suited to the immortal being she claims to be. It draws sharp lines on her face, highlighting the splash of freckles there and the confident set to her brow. That's all unusual where he comes from, but Majima finds he's gotten particularly used to being around her. Comfortable, even.
Majima rests his feet on a precipice along the cave wall just under the water, and returns his gaze back to the lagoon and the fringe of the jungle on the opposite shore.]
Well, can't say that don't sound familiar.