What is this napkin assault. Daryl looks down his nose at it, then across at Paul with narrowed eyes. Sometimes it's painfully obvious when the hamster wheel is turning in his head, mulling over something that requires either a real answer or a yes-or-no sort of immediate action. Presently, something like that is painfully obvious.
After a moment--
"Naw," he says about Rick, as he rests both elbows on the table so he can reach out and snag one of the other man's hands. He pulls it closer, by some miracle not hesitantly or with any kind of self-conscious waiver, and licks his thumb into his mouth. Followed by his index finger. This is what he thinks of your dumb napkin, alright, this is a superior method and-- and some other shit, too; there is absolutely no smoldering suggestive eye contact, because then Paul would probably have to assume he was in a coma having a fever dream (also Daryl would die), but it sure is something. Something Daryl can't actually believe he's done by the time he lets him go. Behold: your hand is clean.
He's not the sort of guy to turn red, but there's a bit more color on his cheekbones than usual.
no subject
After a moment--
"Naw," he says about Rick, as he rests both elbows on the table so he can reach out and snag one of the other man's hands. He pulls it closer, by some miracle not hesitantly or with any kind of self-conscious waiver, and licks his thumb into his mouth. Followed by his index finger. This is what he thinks of your dumb napkin, alright, this is a superior method and-- and some other shit, too; there is absolutely no smoldering suggestive eye contact, because then Paul would probably have to assume he was in a coma having a fever dream (also Daryl would die), but it sure is something. Something Daryl can't actually believe he's done by the time he lets him go. Behold: your hand is clean.
He's not the sort of guy to turn red, but there's a bit more color on his cheekbones than usual.
Anyway.
Daryl takes a bite of something with his fork.