[ Immediately, his gaze lifts in playful mirth--because this guy would absolutely be the guy to have a thousand useless shirt pockets, but he's distracted by the godawful silk scarf that seems to have stolen his companion's attention. By the look of things, he's trying to compare what it might look like against Cloud's skin with the sight of it folded up there; one sharp glance to the scarf again and he lifts his own hand, patting it down lightly on top of the other's.
There's a brief, sharp shake of his head--almost pleading. ]
No.
[ --which means it's surely going to get picked, and he realizes his folly too late. Frowning, he immediately starts down into the box of handkerchief-style scarves, folded neatly, to seek out the most alarmingly bright one possible, lined with orange flames and brown fringe. Quickly, he pulls it out of the box: and then pulls out another, one that's a horrible shade of green with purple polka dots, narrowing his eyes as he holds them up in the air.
His arms lift, one hand higher than the other, then the opposite, measuring them against Balthier's face: until he finally seems to decide on the garish yellow one, neatly tucking the other back in its place. ]
they 100% will
There's a brief, sharp shake of his head--almost pleading. ]
No.
[ --which means it's surely going to get picked, and he realizes his folly too late. Frowning, he immediately starts down into the box of handkerchief-style scarves, folded neatly, to seek out the most alarmingly bright one possible, lined with orange flames and brown fringe. Quickly, he pulls it out of the box: and then pulls out another, one that's a horrible shade of green with purple polka dots, narrowing his eyes as he holds them up in the air.
His arms lift, one hand higher than the other, then the opposite, measuring them against Balthier's face: until he finally seems to decide on the garish yellow one, neatly tucking the other back in its place. ]
...Okay. This one speaks to me. About you.