[ His wings flare out, settling carefully on the bed. He can fold them there more easily, though he sounds flustered when he clarifies; ]

I just said that it's not charm. I suppose it's 'earnestness'...? I didn't say I was special, either, don't twist my words.

[ In a way, it's good to be on his back, peering up... he's all the smaller now, with Sinbad towering over him. Aspen swallows hard, biting on his lower lip, anxiety starting to twist his stomach. No, he doesn't have to be scared. He doesn't have to be scared. Sinbad isn't scary. He curls his fingers into fists as if it might stop his nerves. ]

The one problem with this is that I can't touch you.