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IC Inbox - Ryslig
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Go on ahead. You know where to find me.
[ A black tux would have been just fine, and all that. It was just that he wanted something a little different from his everyday wear. And Majima was fine being poked and prodded with the materials they had while Tim was getting his beef sized.
So while the tailor broke out the measuring tape and remarked on Tim's shoulders in back, Majima would be looking at pocket kerchiefs and listening to spiels about boutonnieres. And talking in slightly nervous fashion to the assistant, who was asking him questions. ]
Yeah, I, uh. Never thought I'd be in one of these shops? For myself, I mean.
[ He sounded happy. ]
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[He was a little distance away from where Majima was looking at suit accouterments with the assistant, but not so far that his sensitive minotaur hearing couldn't keep track of the conversation. It wasn't eavesdropping if he couldn't help it, right?]
[The assistant was telling him all about what kind of flowers he could get in the boutonnieres-- carnations were traditional, but some people liked gardenias because of their lovely scent. Or cornflowers, because of some old folk tale about young men in love wearing cornflowers, and if it wilted too soon, their love wasn't returned.]
["Didn't think you were the marrying type?" Since he'd commented on never being in a shop like this, looking at wedding tuxes. "Or just not very traditional?"]
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[ Why was Majima going on about this, anyhow? Maybe he was too happy, maybe he just wanted to talk about it as he slipped on a tuxedo jacket in a pale neutral shade. ]
My folks were married, and hell if it made them any happier. But it's not like it had to be like that, right? I mean, if I found anyone I was that sweet on, I'd want to take care of 'em forever. Be one of those old folks still takin' walks together in the park.
And after I met Tim, I... sorry, ya must hear this kinda thing all the time.
[ At least he had the decency to sound sheepish as the assistant set him up to the mirror and examined the lapels. It did nothing for his stupidly smitten tone of voice though, or the way he couldn't quite stop smiling. That was his endgame, spending the rest of his life with a freckly slab of beef. Looking at flowers in the springtime, maybe getting a couple of cats that shed everywhere. ]
I just want to give him everything I can. A fancy weddin', a big white frilly cake, flowers, the works. Make sure he knows how special he is.
[ "Well, I think you've come to the right place," the assistant said, smiling. "And that cut looks quite handsome on you! It's perfect with your fur." ]