[his laughter makes her smile, but only just—mostly she feels too confused and worried and full of feelings to smile. As soon as the door's shut, she starts to yank her sweater off over her head even while she's still walking back to the couch. Muffled:]
It is; it's far too cold for you to be outside—Alphonse, what were you thinking?
[her head pops out from under the hem, strands of her pale hair standing out in a static-electricity halo. She looks at him in fresh, stunned awe and unease as she yanks her arms out of the sleeves, and sits next to him, pressing the sweater into his hands.]
Here; put this on, you'll... oh, Al, it's... it really is you, isn't it...?
new priority no. 1: make like three variations of this icon, i use it too much
It is; it's far too cold for you to be outside—Alphonse, what were you thinking?
[her head pops out from under the hem, strands of her pale hair standing out in a static-electricity halo. She looks at him in fresh, stunned awe and unease as she yanks her arms out of the sleeves, and sits next to him, pressing the sweater into his hands.]
Here; put this on, you'll... oh, Al, it's... it really is you, isn't it...?