[And this, truly, is the frustration of Lobelia. He isn't meaning to play hard to get. It's simply in his very nature, wanting to stay on the sidelines and push away anyone who gets close. And yet here the man is, waltzing over his line, entering his personal space, and yet only finding more and more amusement in every ounce of rejection Vergilius brings to the table. To perhaps dissuade him would mean rushing forward into his arms and being as obnoxious as him, or going to the other end of the spectrum, he could be as cold as a statue, but Vergilius can't find it in himself to act as either. He can't.]
[How infuriating it is, that his very nature is like honey to Lobelia's flies.]
And what, you'd want me to chase you all over town? Is that it? [He grunts at the feeling of the man pressing his hand in, still unrelenting. His hand also digs his fingers into the other's shoulder, as mirror, but to push away.] Hm. Guess I'm a lazy detective. I won't chase you.
no subject
[How infuriating it is, that his very nature is like honey to Lobelia's flies.]
And what, you'd want me to chase you all over town? Is that it? [He grunts at the feeling of the man pressing his hand in, still unrelenting. His hand also digs his fingers into the other's shoulder, as mirror, but to push away.] Hm. Guess I'm a lazy detective. I won't chase you.