[Robin is already entranced with the folds of his scarf, the shadows, the edges. he picks at it enough that he--completely by accident--brushes the tips of his fingers against Irahl's lips. they curl away when they do, sluggishly.
he stops what he's doing, coming up out of his daze.]
no subject
he stops what he's doing, coming up out of his daze.]
Huh?