[ Tahk iyat, Garrus repeats as he's kissed. Lovely creature. It only spurrs Noh-Varr on, his hands roving, by now used to all the fastenings of Garrus' armor. Garrus is talking, and he makes himself pause, if only to enjoy the pretty noise. There's something about the intensity in Garrus' gaze that leads him to think the words might be more serious than he'd been led to believe, and his eyes narrow in suspicion. Leaning forward, he kisses Garrus' nose. ]
Look at you. You want the world to believe you're a hard-hearted soldier, but the truth--ah, I know the truth. Garrus Vakarian, you are soft. You give me lovely chirping, and yet you know I'll hurt you. [ Gah-Rus Vah-Kahr-Iyan. In Kree, it sounds so foreign. His fingers trace the contour of the Turian's faceplates, fond and melancholy. Garrus can't understand, and so he won't say anything more. Instead, he sloughs off his shirt and slants his mouth over Garrus' again, silencing them both. ]
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Look at you. You want the world to believe you're a hard-hearted soldier, but the truth--ah, I know the truth. Garrus Vakarian, you are soft. You give me lovely chirping, and yet you know I'll hurt you. [ Gah-Rus Vah-Kahr-Iyan. In Kree, it sounds so foreign. His fingers trace the contour of the Turian's faceplates, fond and melancholy. Garrus can't understand, and so he won't say anything more. Instead, he sloughs off his shirt and slants his mouth over Garrus' again, silencing them both. ]