[ Something on the stove pops; Ignis barely hears it, but the only thing as well-honed in him besides Noct's general state of being is cooking sounds (probably more to the point burning sounds, by now) and so he stills for a moment, though--given the way he pulls back to look at Noct, pupils drowning the ambiguous sea-sky color of his eyes, maybe it's as much to let himself absorb and process how his name sounds on Noct's tongue like this, take it in without boiling over.
Much like the eggs are trying to do. Ignis manages a shaky sound like fond exasperation, though where it's directed is--all directions, really. Noct, himself, them, less fond exasperation that this is bloody necessary in the first place--he sighs and kisses Noct swiftly on the corner of the mouth, turning the exact minimum number of degrees required to get to the stove without actually detaching himself at all. ]
A moment, if you please.
[ This is the point where he discovers the spatula has rolled off into the dirt, and for a moment the temptation to just abandon all of this to kiss Noct silly is clear on his face; if the table would support more or less tackling Noct, there's a real chance that would have happened. As things are of course he has a passel of spare utensils around; he manages to rescue the eggs in a probably still edible state, pulls the skillet off the stove and...proceeds to muffle the welling of helpless laughter in Noct's shoulder, silent little shimmers rocking his back.
He's not quite moved to put his glasses back on, in fact he stays exactly where he is, just for a moment longer. Since he might have gone all of about six inches away in the first place. ]
My desire for you will be the death of us all, I fear. Or at the very least the malnutrition.
[ This isn't really an exaggeration, the others would resort to endless Cup Noodles, and man can only live on so much sodium alone. Still, given that Ignis is still taking advantage of every last possible second they have for more closeness, he can't actually mind too much. Or at all. ]
CLOSE ENOUGH
Much like the eggs are trying to do. Ignis manages a shaky sound like fond exasperation, though where it's directed is--all directions, really. Noct, himself, them, less fond exasperation that this is bloody necessary in the first place--he sighs and kisses Noct swiftly on the corner of the mouth, turning the exact minimum number of degrees required to get to the stove without actually detaching himself at all. ]
A moment, if you please.
[ This is the point where he discovers the spatula has rolled off into the dirt, and for a moment the temptation to just abandon all of this to kiss Noct silly is clear on his face; if the table would support more or less tackling Noct, there's a real chance that would have happened. As things are of course he has a passel of spare utensils around; he manages to rescue the eggs in a probably still edible state, pulls the skillet off the stove and...proceeds to muffle the welling of helpless laughter in Noct's shoulder, silent little shimmers rocking his back.
He's not quite moved to put his glasses back on, in fact he stays exactly where he is, just for a moment longer. Since he might have gone all of about six inches away in the first place. ]
My desire for you will be the death of us all, I fear. Or at the very least the malnutrition.
[ This isn't really an exaggeration, the others would resort to endless Cup Noodles, and man can only live on so much sodium alone. Still, given that Ignis is still taking advantage of every last possible second they have for more closeness, he can't actually mind too much. Or at all. ]